Harry Potter and the Cocaine Llama
by Eve Of Fire
Summary: It's a comedy with a plot and it's not a slash. Just a fun little story I hope you enjoy! It's about Harry's 6th year. There's a ferret on cocaine, too.
1. Damn Oranges!

Welcome readers, what you are about to enter is a fierce rivalry between two writers. Hoping to better our writing we decided to have a bit of a challenge. Each writer must write a fanfic, update once a week, add some quirky things that I'll explain later, and try to keep the writing style close to the actual book. Well, here goes.

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Warning!

People attempting to find a motive in this narrative will be incriminated;

People attempting to find moral in it will be banished;

People attempting to find a plot in it will be shot.

By order of the Author.

WHACK!! Harry Potter awoke with a start and jerked up in his seat. Professor McGonagall's piercing stare began drilling into him and her wand still lay on the desk in explanation of what the sound had been. Snickers sprouted up through the room like weeds from the other sixth year Gryffindor and Ravenclaw students. Harry chanced a nervous smile and an uncomfortable laugh, which he quickly abandoned and followed Ron's lead in sinking down into his seat as low as possible.

"Now," began Minerva, staring at the two boys with stern disappointment. "Which one of you is going to tell me what I just said, hmm?" She stared Harry in the eyes and he used every ounce of training he'd been through over the summer to read her thoughts.

"You were saying how transfiguring a moving object will be useful when we have kids of our own throwing pudding through the air," Harry explained.

"That's right, Mr. Potter," Professor McGonagall raised an eyebrow at Harry and turned swiftly around. "And you were mumbling about an important Quidditch match you were winning."

Another round of giggles spread through the room, but Harry was fully awake now and every conscious minute he was cursed to relive Sirius's death. He didn't care if they laughed anymore. He didn't care when Malfoy teased him and provoked the rest of the Slytherins into whimpering like dogs when he walked past. He didn't care when Snape embarrassed him for something relatively unimportant. He didn't even care about Quidditch anymore. At the last practice he'd played his part, but every movement was rehearsed and not one bit of it was thrill. Professor McGonagall noticed the frightening lack of reaction and quieted the class so she could continue the lesson.

"Today you will be working with the other person at your table," she explained, still holding her back to them and staring at the chalk board. "You shall each be turning balls of yarn into oranges as your partner throws them at you." She paused for a few seconds and re-read the instructions on the board to make sure they were clear before bellowing, "Begin!"

Many of the students jumped as McGonagall barked out her order and sped baskets of yarn balls at them to practice with. Ron grabbed the basket and stood up in silence, noticing that Harry once again seemed deflated. Ron's goal in life had resorted to keeping Harry's spirits up, which he did devotedly. Both Hermione and Ron feared the worse for Harry as he'd lost so much and he seemed on the verge of suicide at times. He didn't sleep much and had nightmares when he did. Madam Pomfrey had been trying to give him dreamless sleep potion, but he didn't care enough to take it every night. Sometimes he had good dreams, but whenever Harry Potter looked in the mirror he heard a voice telling him he had led Sirius to his death.

Ron threw the yarn ball and Harry fired at it. The ball landed on a desk and seemed to have changed very little. It was now slightly more orange in color than before, but other than that there was no difference. Ron's turn delivered the same result.

"Y'know," began Ron, prodding his own orange yarn ball with his wand. "Mom never transfigured pudding into anything. She told us if we threw it, she wouldn't serve it."

Harry shrugged and threw the yarn ball again. Ron took aim and fired, but the result was the same. Harry tried and they compared yarn balls. Both seemed the same as the last ones and were an amazing display of a waste of time.

"…Is pudding dangerous?" Ron demanded, clenching his fist around the yarn ball. "I mean seriously! I've never been in a situation where I wished I could just transfigure a ball of yarn into fruit! The words: oh no, I better turn that yarn into fruit, quick! Have never escaped my mouth!" he ranted.

"Well, not all at once," Harry replied simply. He didn't care how stupid the assignment was at that moment, all he had to do was pass with a high enough score to an E or an N. They were all focused on that at the moment. Neville had been a nervous wreck lately having barely gotten into Snape's potion class and that was only with the help of Albus Dumbledore, who felt that after standing up to a group of death eaters, including the one that had hurt his parents, Neville should be allowed to at least try for becoming an Auror, and he needed the class for any career dealing with plants as making an antidote was half of working with them, especially as he tended to be clumsy with the poisonous ones.

Harry and Ron turned to see how Hermione was doing and were revolted to see that she and her partner had a pile of perfect oranges in their basket. They each flicked their wands daintily and caught the fruit in their empty hands. Harry turned his attention away as his mind whispered,

'She bests you in everything. Maybe if you tried harder Sirius wouldn't have died. Maybe if you had her talent he'd still be alive. Maybe if you were as smart as she was then you would have known it was a trap.' Yet Neville caught his eye before the voice could really get him down. Neville was the worst student in the school, yet it had been him who had been left standing to aid as backup. Neville waved and Harry waved back. They shared a special connection after their near death experience. Neville had even broken down and admitted to Harry that he felt that Sirius's death had been entirely his fault.

That had gotten Harry out of the worse part of the depression. Having to talk Neville out of feeling guilty had come as a frustrated challenge. It would have been easier to blame him and Neville offered no objection to shouldering the guilt. Somehow that was when Harry first realized that he hadn't been alone in his misguided rescue mission so he couldn't have been the only one to have been tricked. Yet the demon in his head was always there to whisper of failure and there were moments when he felt he'd never be able to conquer the demon and might as well just die. It was no use fighting against something so strong and he knew he'd never best it. Neville fired at the yard ball and reveled in the complete lack of effect.

"I hate you," he intoed at the pink yarn ball, having adapted Ron's language habits over the summer.

"That was closer than last time, try again," his partner, Desdemona, invited.

Harry looked to her. Desdemona was a new girl who had transferred from a school in Japan, though she lived in England. To any who asked she simply explained that her family wanted a school that was more disciplined and committed to a large range of extracurricular activities as she wasn't any good at sports. Anyone that took notice of her could tell she loved art as her long, slightly curly, black hair usually held specks of pain of clay in it. Her hair was usually tied back with a ribbon or spare cloth in order to keep it out of her projects.

She was the type of girl who never thought twice before putting on safety goggles, sunglasses, or magnification goggles, all of which made her look nerdy, so it came as a surprise to those who saw her large blue eyes. They were her most prominent feature, yet her eyes were always downcast as she roamed the halls usually in a rush with her eyes set on the floor, in class she was always sketching or reading and taking notes like she desperately wanted to keep busy. She'd developed slightly squirrel-like habits as she seemed to be a pack rat and jumped at small noises.

Neville let out a groan and readied his wand for another attempt. Again the ball dropped to the floor without a result. He seemed a lot happier now that he was closer in Harry's group of friends, but the Neville curse still roamed through him. He got along with Desdemona easily and was usually happy to be around her as she was a very timid girl who always made him feel like his mistakes weren't his fault.

"Sorry, I'll throw it softer this time," said Desdemona, holding the yarn ball up like a shield.

Harry looked back in time to see something flying towards him, out of instinct he cast a deflecting spell and the object soared back towards the person who'd thrown it. Ron, saw it and cast the same spell Harry had done, thinking that was the best idea during an attack. They continued between this even when they realized that it was just a yarn ball halfway into the orange stage. Hermione greatly disapproved, and proved this with a strict stare that went unnoticed. She dropt it when her partner threw another ball and she nearly missed changing it. McGonagall looked up from her stack of papers and glanced around the room.

Seamus was tying up Dean with yarn to the amusement of a group of Ravenclaws, Hermione and her partner were swelling with pride and enjoying the fact that they could now eat their yard balls, Desdemona was getting pitching practice but her wand lay abandoned in her bag, Neville was adding curse words to his vocabulary as he hissed at each ball of yarn, and Harry and Ron, bless them, were playing tennis. The bell rang, saving the children unknowingly from getting transfigured into ferrets where the final test would be to change themselves back.

"Miss. Embers," McGonagall called, figuring she'd focus on the slacker.

"Y-yes, Professor?" Desdemona replied, halting at the door quite suddenly and spilling her books.

"I noticed you didn't take a turn, Mrs. Embers," McGonagall stated, helping her pick up the books.

Desdemona dropped her gaze, avoiding eye contact. "Uh, n-no, Professor," she stammered.

"Tomorrow I expect you to come to the front of the class and show them how it's done, seeing as you're too good to practice," McGonagall informed her sharply, opening the sketch book to see if there was a new drawing in it.

Desdemona stared up at her with fearful eyes, but McGonagall ignored her and stared at the new drawing.

"If only you put as much effort into your schoolwork," she sighed, handing the book back to Desdemona.

"Y-yes professor," Desdemona stuttered. Minerva nodded, then strode away to go and talk to Neville about how to keep a Poserella plant from singing Britney Spears songs.

Harry Potter stared at the front of the class room and his mind was bombarded with images. He saw Cedric lying dead, he saw Voldemort rising from the cauldron, he saw Sirius fall into the curtain, and he saw Fudge announcing to the wizarding community that Voldemort was back and should be left to the ministry workers to deal with. Fudge held a strong hatred towards Dumbledore, accusing him of sabotaging the ministry and making them look bad. He had declared that all individuals grouping together to stop Voldemort would be sentenced to Azkaban for ruining investigations by Ministry officials. Flashes of his miserable life with the Dursley's and the loss of the one person who could have saved him from them defeated all hope left inside of Harry.

Slowly the voices began filtering back into the dungeon as Ron nudged him in the ribs and knocked him out of the depressing daydream. Hermione's hand was in the air as usual, waving energetically. Snape was ignoring her and Draco was snickering, everything was normal. Snape looked across the room, as a vulture searching for a rotting corpse to feed upon, his eyes lingered on Harry for a moment, but Harry only pointed to Hermione in frustration.

'She won't stop just because you ignore her so pick her already!' he thought harshly, staring Snape dead in the eye. Professor Snape let out a hissing sigh and his eyes slowly traveled to Hermione in what History would always remember as the fiercest, scariest, and most aggravated look in the History of Hogwarts. Hermione dropped her hand like a dead weight and sunk low in her seat. Neville sat next to her, white as a ghost and shaking. Even the Slytherins were silent, and that was hard for them as Draco had found a particularly painful topic to torment Harry with. Everyone was waiting to either burst into flames, or for Snape's head to continue its slow movement until it spun completely around. Ron and Harry, who were cursed to be sitting in the front row, felt the sudden urge to run for the door as Snape turned the stare towards them. Harry, however, stared right back and an invisible war seemed to erupt between them.

Ron was leaning away from Snape so far that he was on the verge of falling out of his chair, Hermione was peeking out from under her desk, Malfoy's mouth was open mid-speech, Neville looked like he'd been petrified, yet Harry and Snape faced each other with scowls of frustrated anger. The class was smothered in an uneasy silence, not daring to bolt for the door, but really not wanting to stay there. As the bell rang, Ron grabbed Harry's arm and vaulted for the door. He burst into the hall dragging Harry behind him and couldn't stop himself from crying,

"Sanctuary!"

"Ron!" Hermione lectured as they hurried down the hallway.

"Shh, shh," whispered Neville, petting his hand and urging them forward. "Shhhhh."

One by one, Ron, Hermione and Neville squirmed as shivers ran through them. They quickly decided it was a grand day to go outside, and fled from the dungeon dragging Harry after them. They sprung into the first floor and dashed in a random direction.

"Ouch!" Desdemona cried as Ron ran into her and her books fell to the ground for the fifth time that day. She quickly scrambled to gather her books and papers before people stepped on them. She completed this rather quickly and promptly stood up, her eyes cast to the floor.

"S-sorry about that," she apologized. "You're alright?"

"Uh," Ron stuttered. "My fault."

"No harm done," and with that she hurried down the hallway, possibly late for another class.

"Got a few screws loose that one," Ron muttered after her.

"Oh, she's really nice," Hermione defended. "She's just a bit… awkward around people… and she has a nasty habit of being late."

"I noticed," Ron replied mockingly. "Sorry you ran into me," he mimicked Desdemona. "My fault, I'll leap over you next time."

"Ron!" Hermione shrieked.

"Hermione!" Ron mimicked and was swiftly kicked in the shin.

"Whipped," Neville laughed.

"Quiet!" Harry ordered sharply.

"Sorry, Harry, I-" Ron began.

"Shut up!" Harry snapped. He crept forward and they followed silently. They had begun coming to school with expectations about danger and Harry seemed fine tuned to it. He was teaching the Defense against Dark Arts Study group in his spare time as a way to regain some of the happiness his fifth year had provided. They all knew he was always on the lookout for a trap now, though worried he'd become Mad-eye if he wasn't careful. Harry peered around the corner and saw Professor McGonagall stumbling forward. Her hands were outstretched and she looked distressed. Harry held Hermione back as she tried to run and help, he'd become cautious and noticed that McGonagall was only a few feet from the Infirmary.

McGonagall entered the double doors in a drunken manner and left the four teenagers to shoot nervous looks to one another. Harry recovered first with a sigh and decided he'd go take a nap before the impending doom arrived.

"Oy, Harry?" Ron asked, leaning against a post on Harry's four poster bed.

"What?" Harry pulled open the curtain and stared up at Ron, who sat down at the end of the bed.

"I was just thinking about potions class today," Ron admitted, not looking at Harry for fear he'd get upset.

"If you want notes on it you'll have to go to Hermione, won't you," Harry replied, sorry he'd woken up for this.

"No, not that!" Ron went pink around the ears, but continued what he'd been trying to say.

"I meant about the glare-a-thon between you and Snape."

"Oh," Harry put his pillow over the upper half his face, trying to signal that he had a headache and wanted to be left alone, but Ron stayed. Sighing, Harry spoke.

"He just wanted to yell at me, that's all."

"He yelled at you?" Ron gaped, taken aback by the comment. "When?"

"Well, he didn't exactly yell at me, did he?" Harry abandoned his attempt to sleep and sat up, pushing the pillow behind him. "He more of… though harshly at me."

"What'd he say?" Ron asked, leaning in towards Harry as if they were about to share an important secret.

Harry recalled the conversation in his mind.

'It's not all your fault,' snarled Snape.

'What do you mean it's not all my fault?!' he had snapped back. I'm the idiot that fell for the trap-'

'Which you never would have heard if I hadn't stopped giving you lessons!'

'Which you stopped because I decided to get nosey!'

'It was childish for me to stop,' Snape had argued, though his face twisted into a glare of hatred towards Harry. 'That I admit. Besides, I should have done something more when you tried to warn me.'

'Like what?' Harry had twitched with anger. 'Asked Umbridge if you could pop over to a friends house for a moment and then help her deal with us?'

'Like anticipated you- or Granger- would find a way out and waited for you!'

That had been the point the bell had rung and their conversation was brought to an end.

"…Ron?" Harry asked.

"What?" Ron replied, still wondering what Snape had said.

Harry stared fixedly at him, studying his every move. "Do you, in any way, think Sirius's death was your fault?"

Ron stared at the bed sheet and answered in little above a whisper, "Yes."

"Why?" Harry questioned, still watching Ron's reactions closely.

"Because in the end it was you and Neville," Ron admitted. "I'm your best friend and where was I? Maybe if I'd been with you then we could have found a way out or fought harder, or I don't know...."

"You really think that way?" Harry felt a deep guilt swell up inside him. He'd played the friend role, but all summer he'd ignored them and now he realized they must have assumed he was mad at them.

"Hermione thinks the same thing, mate," Ron admitted. "Seems like all we are good for is telling you what to do, the time you actually need us we ruin everything."

"Ron," Harry shook his head. "It was my fault. You can think it over a million times, the truth is that it all comes down to me believing an obvious lie. Everyone reacted to me, if I had just used that mirror to contact him that night, like he asked me to, this would have never happened. It's my fault. I led Sirius to his death. I nearly led you lot to your deaths. Every time someone follows my ideas, they get hurt."

Ron decided this was time to let Harry sleep and relay the conversation to Neville and Hermione. Harry decided not to care what Ron did as long as it allowed him to get some rest. Lately he'd been tired a lot as nights were devoted to many different activities, Remus had given him James's journal which he'd been too afraid to read with much attention to detail even though it was from the seventh year when James had supposedly straightened out, and he had a voice in his mind telling him he wasn't good enough for sleep. Harry Potter closed his eyes and wondered if he'd open them again, or give into the world of darkness that was slowly consuming him. Every morning he woke up he was amazed and secretly wondering when he'd end it all.

"Who is that?" Neville pointed towards the transfiguration professor. She was a younger woman with an oddly shaped nose and green hair…

'Tonks!' Harry, Hermione, and Rom stared wide eyed at Tonks and their jaws hit the floor. She returned their stares with a showy wink and a giggle. Hermione fell into her seat as Ron and Harry shuffled uncomfortable towards their table. Tonks sat upon McGonagall's desk with a flashy smile like she was posing for a picture.

"Wotcher, Harry," she greeted, giving Harry the thumbs up.

"Err…" Harry stuttered, not exactly sure what to do.

"Remember me?" Tonks asked skeptically. "You probably don't, but Arthur introduced us early last year."

Er, yeah, yeah that's right," Harry nodded, shooting her a look that demanded an explanation for her being there. None of the order members were supposed to let anyone know about the order or its members.

A watch on Tonk's wrist chimed loudly and she opened her mouth to start the lesson and stopped, noticing everyone staring at her.

"Something wrong?" she asked. "Oh!" she scrunched up her face and her nose popped into one more fitting her pose. "Does that look better?" she asked, watching the familiar reaction of stunned disbelief from everyone except Ron, Harry, and Hermione, who were rolling their eyes. Tonks started to speak again, but she was cut off as the door flung open and Desdemona hurried in. She cringed as every eye in the room turned towards her and she crept along the back wall to sit next to Neville.

"Hello," Tonks greeted, taking out an attendance sheet. "Can I have your name?"

"D-d-desdemona E-e-embers," Desdemona answered nervously.

"Ah!" Tonk's face lit up. "Professor McGonagall left me a special note for you. You'll be showing us the proper way to turn a ball of yarn into an orange, that's fan-" the stopped, noticing that Harry, Ron, and Hermione were all mouthing 'no' and gesturing for her to stop. Desdemona hadn't practiced and had Neville's luck from what they'd seen. She tried her hardest and was bright, but very nervous in front of crowds.

"tastic," Tonks finished nervously.

Desdemona fumbled quickly through her books, looking for notes, her hands paused on her sketchbook and she hesitated. Whispers of doubt radiated through the room as Desdemona was fifteen and enrolled in a sixth year class, it was no surprise she was struggling. Neville leaned over to her, whispering 'just say you can't. The lecture won't be as bad as the embarrassment.' Desdemona looked up at him but stopped. A determined look spread across her face and she stood up with enough force to knock her chair backwards, grabbed her wand and strode to the front of the class.

Tonks stepped aside as Neville stood slowly up and prepared to throw her a yarn ball. Desdemona nodded to him, though her hand twitched and fidgeted nervously. Neville nodded back doubtfully and tossed the ball. Desdemona's wand shot up and her voice did not simply say the spell, but seemed to command it. In midair the yarn spun into a yellow color and small pores appeared. It landed on a desk and juice squirted out and onto the faces of two Ravenclaw in the front row. Desdemona kept her wand raised and stared at the fruit in shock, not believing that her spell had actually worked.

Tonks, due to a lack of a better idea, picked up the fruit and sniffed it, "…It smells like a lemon," she admitted with a smile. "So, when life gives you lemons, you make lemonade! Twenty points to Ravenclaw! And full marks to Miss. Embers!"

Neville and the Ravenclaws (sounds like a band, no?) erupted into applause. Even the Gryffindor were applauding, all except Hermione who looked astounded and was muttering,

"It's a lemon, not an orange!"

Desdemona, however, rocked back and forth on her feet for a few seconds, and promptly crumbled to the floor.

"Er, yeah," Tonks laughed uncomfortably. "Harry, you wanna take her to the nurse or something…"

Harry got up as Hermione began a rant about how luck proved nothing. Ron was forced to listen 'attentively' to this rant and tried getting in comments like 'everyone still knows you'll graduate top of our year,' or 'they're just happy because this is good for Desdemona, it's like if Neville made a perfect potion that turned Snape into a toad.'

"Well she didn't have to faint!" Hermione growled. "That was an overreaction!"

Harry carried Desdemona out of the room and found she was unusually light, which he was thankful for as he hadn't slept the night before and it was quite a ways to the infirmary. Once there he stopped as he heard voices inside.

"I was in the teacher's lounge," Professor McGonagall was explaining. "I had some coffee, graded a few papers and then I started to feel offset so I headed here when I finished the papers."

"That's it?" Madam Pomfrey asked quietly.

"Yes, yes, that's all," McGonagall said rather forcefully.

"Well, it seems we've a bit of a mystery on our hands," Professor Dumbledore announced prominently.

"Yes, and this year let's not leave it up to a certain person to get us out of it," Minerva sighed.

"Who?" Madam Pomfrey asked dimly.

"Potter!" Snape spat, jerking his head towards the door as movement caught his eye. Harry decided to continue his way into the infirmary as he was already pushing the door open with his back.

"What do you think you're d-?" Snape's lecture caught in his throat as Harry emerged far enough into the room for Desdemona to come into view.

"Oh my!" Madam Pomfrey rushed over towards the two students. "Come, come," she instructed. Harry laid Desdemona on a bed and left her to Madam Pomfrey as Professor McGonagall called him over.

"What happened?" Professor McGonagall asked, knowing that Harry and Desdemona had Transfiguration this hour.

"She transfigured the yarn ball and collapsed," Harry explained simply, not really knowing how to explain what had happened without laughing. He imagined Neville's reaction if he HAD made the potion Ron had talked about earlier.

"Probably of shock," scoffed Snape.

"Why do you think that?" asked Professor Dumbledore calmly and with his usual smile.

"She's the female version of Neville Longbottom," Snape clarified arrogantly. "I imagine he'd have a coronary if he perfected something that didn't have leaves on it."

"I think Neville just hasn't reached his peak," smiled Dumbledore as Harry drifted over to Desdemona and left the 'adults' to continue their conversation.

"You carried her all the way here by yourself?" Madam Pomfrey asked.

"Yes, she's not heavy," Harry answered and saw a suspicious glimmer spread across Madam Pomfrey's eyes.

"Does she spend a lot of time studying?" she asked Harry.

"More than Hermione," Harry nodded. "I've seen her in class and at the library, nowhere else."

"Mmm hmm," Madam Pomfrey nodded and spun around towards the Professors. "I'd appreciate it if you saved your comments,' she snapped at Professor Snape, moving away from Desdemona. "This girl is suffering from malnutrition."

"In English," McGonagall requested, not up to her usual standards at the moment.

"She hasn't been eating," Madam Pomfrey clarified. "She probably collapsed because it took a lot of effort to perform that spell."

"And she got it on the first try," Harry pointed out, saying this mostly to Snape, though he chose to look at Professor Dumbledore while he said it. "Even Hermione was jealous."

"That'll be enough, Potter," Snarled Professor Snape, completely understanding that he was being told off.

"Thank you, Harry," Professor Dumbledore smiled warmly. "You may go back to class now."

Harry nodded and retreated out of the room as fast as possible. There he took a sharp left and grabbed his Invisibility cloak from behind a painting. He had stored it there after witnessing McGonagall dragging herself into the infirmary. He wanted to be sure that this year he got ALL the details and had open options to tell a teacher what was going on and make them deal with it.

Snape waited a few seconds before trudging silently over to the door and swinging it open, making sure Harry wasn't planning on listening in on their conversation they'd planned to have while he was safely in class with an order member. He looked carefully around before closing the door again.

"How do you feel now, Minerva," Dumbledore asked, choosing to ignore Professor Snape.

"Strange," Minerva began. "It's like I just used a Pensive. But all my memories are fine; it's spells that are foggy."

"You may have a concussion," Madam Pomfrey presumed. "One the left side of your brain where that kind of knowledge is stored."

"Will I get it back?" McGonagall asked; her voice laced with worry. Dumbledore put his hand on her shoulder comfortingly and said,

"I'm sure you will."

"I don't remember being attacked or anything though," said Minerva defensively.

"Well, you wouldn't, would you?" said Madam Pomfrey. "The concussion would block out the attack."

"Are you suggesting that someone is attacking people in this school?" asked Snape skeptically.

"Lots," answered Madam Pomfrey with a meaningful glare at Snape. "Just a few moments ago, you attacked Mr. Potter for giving his opinion."

Outside, Harry was forced to gag himself so he wouldn't let out a spiteful laugh. He could imagine Snape's face turning colors as he struggled not to get into a fight with Madam Pomfrey in front of Professor Dumbledore. The fight that did ensue was one of casual snipes between the nurse and the potions professor. Harry, however, was busy trying to hear over them to what Professor Dumbledore and McGonagall were talking about.

"I can't imagine who could have gotten into the lounge and attacked me," McGonagall was saying.

"I don't know, Minerva," said Professor Dumbledore, sincerely. "But we'll find them."

'Ignoring the obvious, again,' Harry thought, rolling his eyes. 'I wonder who could have gotten into the staff lounge without arising suspicion. Say maybe STAFF! So, who can't we trust on the staff yet? Maybe that would be the DADA professor who is new to the school and will probably follow the curse of bad professors teaching that class!'

Harry Potter silently climbed to his feet and stalked of, depositing his cloak back behind the painting. His head was spinning with ideas of how to best deal with the problem quickly, but as indirectly as possible. First things first, he needed to involve Ron and Hermione, then ask Neville as back up and to make sure there weren't flaws in the plan so greatly idiotic that Neville would catch them. Besides, Neville was an endless source of plant information and knew of a particular plant for almost everything. There had to be one he could find use in. He also needed Hermione to make some truth serum so they could question the Defense Against the Dark Arts professor without much danger. Ron would, as always, provide a friend that would either unknowingly give some clue or hint to the solution, or coincidentally know how to solve one of the problems.

"That took you a long time," Tonks greeted suspiciously as Harry walked back into the chaotic classroom and had to dodge a yarn ball that someone threw.

"I stopped to plant a few dungbombs," shrugged Harry, figuring someone must have planted a few anyway. "You don't mention that, and I won't mention anything about the glass vase Mrs. Weasley can't find."

"Deal!" Tonks grabbed Harry's hand and shook thankfully.

"Is she okay?" demanded Neville, striding forward to question Harry.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "Just tired," he lied, somehow wanting to protect Desdemona from the embarrassment of everyone knowing she'd forgotten to eat.

"Thank goodness," breathed Neville. "I was sure I'd done something wrong."

"Why were you gone so long?" asked Hermione, coming up behind Harry.

"Yeah, what's up?" asked Ron.

Harry leaned in close and they followed suite. With a cautious look around, Harry relayed the entire conversation and his opinions of it. Hermione looked shocked, but Ron drummed his fingers on the table and mumbled,

"I'm going to buy all of us earplugs."

"Why?" asked Hermione in a patient tone.

"Because I heard Professor Bins saying that he didn't like the new DADA professor," clarified Ron in a mumble of regret. "Said this school would be better off without a no good monster like him. Said he was one of society's downfalls."

"So that settles it," sighed Harry. "I suppose you'll be wanting to go to the library?" he asked Hermione.

"No," replied Hermione, causing Harry and Ron to fall out of their chairs in pure alarm.

"What?" Ron coughed out, seeming to have been choking on his surprise.

"That'd be a tad suspicious, don't you think?" said Hermione, her voice tight and annoyed. "I think we should go about our daily lives and try to work this out in secret, unless you want Harry locked up at Grimmauld Palace."

"True," Ron nodded. "I think Lupin is ready to do that anyway."

"He just doesn't want to loose anyone else!" lectured Hermione, glaring at Ron.

"Neither do I," said Harry. "So let's get this over with as soon as possible."

-

Harry Potter leaned against the greenhouse wall and stared up into the sky. Neville was squatting near a patch of odd looking shrubs with blue buds that emitted sparks of shinny balls that drifted around as if they were alive. The plant itself was a light turquoise color, though it seemed to glow as the shinny balls left a trail of sparkles wherever they flew. Neville had not looked up at Harry once as he carefully pruned the shrub.

"It's called Fairycradel," explained Neville, staring affectionately at the plant. "They call it that because tinny fairies are what you see coming out of the buds. The interesting fact about this plant is that it has a communal relationship with the fairies. They live in it while they grow into actual fairies, but the plant shoots off spores that keep the young ones brainwashed to take care of it. A plant like this is rare as it takes a grown fairy to make it. The tinny sprout has to wait until a fairy flies by, and shoot out a small spike into the fairy. The spike contains a parasite that takes over the fairy and makes it take care of the sprout. The fairy uses most of its magic on the sprout, and when the plant is old enough to support a bud, it envelopes the fairy and grows up around it. So the base stock of each Farycradle is a fairy."

"As eerie as that is," said Harry, staring cautiously at the stock of the plant. "How does that help me?"

Neville set down the pruning shears and reached tenderly towards a large bud surrounded by vines. He gestured for Harry to come closer and took out his wand. Harry kneeled next to him and stared blankly at the bud. It was a soft purple color and larger than any other bud.

"I've been caring for this plant since first year," said Neville, his face and voice alive with pride. "Professor Sprout helped me a lot in the beginning. He said he was happy that someone had the talent and interest to care for it.

"That's great, Neville," said Harry, deciding to just be happy that Neville had been given such a grand compliment and had something to be proud of.

"Since first year I've been reading up on it and trying my best," Neville continued. "Do you know what a Fairycradle does that makes it so special and need so much time?"

"No," Harry replied honestly. Neville's face erupted into a grin and he slowly eased his want towards the purple bud.

"It grows a pod," said Neville, pointing towards what Harry had assumed to be a bud. "And in that pod is something extraordinary." He lit his wand and moved it behind the pod with delicate care. Harry's mouth fell open and his eyes stared unblinkingly at the wonder before them. Inside the pod, clearly visible, was a human form silhouetted by the light. She was in a fetal position, but turned towards the light and stretched two perfectly formed arms.

"Wow," breathed Harry.

"She's a special kind of fairy," spoke Neville. "She has a very strong power that grants wishes, like a genie."

Harry was silent as he watched the girl stretch. He couldn't help but be amazed at Neville. The nerdy boy whom everyone thought couldn't do anything, was raising his very own genie.

"That's amazing," said Harry. "When will she, er, I mean how old is she?"

"When she's born, she'll be a baby," whispered Neville. "She looks like a teenager, figure wise I mean. Professor Sprout says she'll come out in about three weeks or so." Neville removed his wand and the pod darkened again. "But what you need is a Tokerstashide."

"Huh?" asked Harry, his mind still on the pod.

"It's like a drawer," explained Neville. "This plant can grow anywhere as long as you sprinkle cannabis powder around the roots for it to feed on. It has a gooey substance around its leaves that shrinks things. So you bring it with you to the library, let it touch the book, and the Venus-flytrap type mouth will snatch up the shrunken book. Then later, you tickle the plant, it spits out the book, you wipe it off and that's it. The book will regrow for your use."

"Are you being serious?" Harry gaped.

"I've got a room full of gum wrappers my Grandmother has never seen, and a window box full of these," grinned Neville.

"Where do I get one?" asked Harry, reminding himself to do something nasty to Snape later in return for the favor Neville was doing.

"To your left," Neville replied. "I was going to turn it in for extra credit, but you can use it."

Harry climbed into the common room and was promptly interrogated by Ron and Hermione, who hadn't known where he'd run off to. The common room was deserted as everyone had gone down for breakfast. Ron had awoken, pulled back the curtain on Harry's bed and panicked. The person they were keeping on suicide watch was missing.

"Where were you, we were worried sick!" exclaimed Hermione, enveloping Harry into a tight hug.

"Sorry, MOM!" Harry shot back, wrenching free from her grip.

"You don't have to take that attitude with me!" snapped Hermione.

"Uh, what's that?" asked Ron, pointing at the tinny plant in Harry's hand.

"Ask Neville," Harry replied. "I was in the greenhouse this morning, relaying our plan to him."

"Well, he freaked out, did he?" asked Ron, already assuming that yes was to be the answer.

"No, actually he was pretty cool about it," explained Harry, slightly on the defense. "He's just glad we're being careful this year and that we're including him."

"The truth serum is in a book in the restricted section," sighed Hermione, as if saying they should give up and tell the adults their plan.

"I can't wait until next year," grumbled Ron. "That section has been a pain in the arse ever since first year and I'll be happy next year when we're allowed in it."

"Not a problem," Harry replied, setting the plant down on the table between them. He briefly explained what it did and waited for a reaction. Ron was prodding the plant with something Harry assumed had once belonged to Percy, Hermione was recalling all five years of Herbology class, and the plant looked surprisingly mellow.

"So we just get a pass to check out a book, go in there and shrink the one we need so no one knows we took it," Hermione seemed alarmed by the simplicity of the plan and quite pleased with the lack of danger.

"How do we get a pass?" Ron asked, trying to complicate things.

"WE don't," said Harry. "Neville is going to do that for us."

"What?" Ron's jaw hit the floor next to Hermione's.

"He's going to ask Professor Sprout if he can research a book on some poisonous plants," spoke Harry, allowing his tone to become stern. "Trust me, he'll get the pass. Then, while in the library, Hermione is going to distract the librarian, Ron is going to serve as back up, and Neville is going to ask me to help him find it. I nonchalantly agree and we're in."

"But what if one of the teachers gets suspicious and looks for the book?" Hermione worried, chewing her lip as she finished.

"Why would they?" Ron shrugged. "They never stopped us before, though Snape always tried."

The three amigos looked around the room, knowing it was Snape's favorite hobby to enter the room at moment when he was either being talked about, or could interrupt a conversation with a disembodied sneering comment. Thankfully, they were still alone.

"But Remus said that if he got word of trouble and got news that Harry was involved, he'd pull Harry from school," Hermione reminded them. "The order members are keeping such a close eye on you…"

"I know, mom," groaned Harry. "Seems you're helping them."

Hermione opened her mouth to say something, but Ron interrupted before she could unleash her storm of lectures and refrigerator magnet quotes.

"Open the book with the spell we need and copy the spell," suggested Ron, shrugging his shoulders as if to prove it was the simplest thing in the world.

"That'd take too long," lectured Hermione.

"That's why I want Luna to help us," spoke Harry, again causing Hermione and Ron to jump in surprise.

"Why?" Gasped Ron.

"How?" Gaped Hermione.

"Her dad has magical cameras, probably even small ones that we can use to snap a quick picture. Either that or I'm ripping out the page," said Harry, explaining things as simply as possible.

"Those books would scream if you ripped a page out," Hermione pouted.

"Exactly," said Harry. "We all fought Death Eaters, I think we can trust everyone from that night to help and keep a secret."

"Okay, but…" Hermione hesitated, debating whether or not to continue. "It's just been one incident."

"Haven't you learned yet that these things get worse the longer we ignore them," Harry sighed. "I just want to get this over with so we can concentrate on more important things."

"I hope you mean school and not why Voldemort hasn't attacked anyone yet," lectured Hermione, her tone shrill and important.

"This is our sixth year," spoke Harry. "And I'd like to pass it."

"Fred and George said it was hell," said Ron, his voice low with fear. "It if comes up to the option of finding who's attacking the teachers, or taking the tests, I'm going straight for the attacker."

--

Rules to the MechaPanda and Eve-L-Minded, Story Challenge.

One character must appear in a fairy costume (Tinkerbelle, ect).

A Llama must be in the story.

"Where's Waldo/there's Waldo," must be said by one character. Rabbit with big sharp pointy teeth.

"Run away!" must be said at least three different times.

There must be a room filled with Jello.

One character must say, "The last time I four scored wasseven years ago."

At least one character gets captured/arrested.

One character is shrunk.

One character has a crippling fear of clowns.

Clowns must appear in the plot.

Other character(s) must find out about and tease the clownophobic.

Must use the quote "you're a fast little shit, aren't you?"

Character(s) forced to cross-dress. (Nickname(s) and all.)

One character must be gay.

Same thing must happen to one character every time (s)he shows up.

"She's a lady, whoa, whoa, whoa, she's a lady."

Someone must end up in a compromising situation, more than once, and be caught.

There must be a ferret on crack. (Squirrels are also acceptable.)

Two rivals must be forced into a situation beyond embarrassment where they must get along in order to make it out.

Anytime a character says "Now what?" The fourth person who entered the room has to strip. Like a pro.

A guy must be attacked by a kitten. In a very sensitive place.

Must have a new character, or kill off an old one.

24. "Maybe it's a short cut." "Maybe it's a long cut." "Maybe it's a paper cut?"


	2. Yanks!

(Chapter 2.) (Oh, and a new chapter will be posted every Friday as part of the rules.)

Harry Potter stared at the door impatiently. It was taking Neville a long time to get the note. Ron was asleep in his chair and Hermione was reading two books at once, seeming to be having a competition with Desdemona, who was also reading two books. She glanced nervously up at Harry and her face broke into pained embarrassment as she saw that he was staring at her. Harry smiled and started over towards her, hoping to lie and say the nurse hadn't told him anything and he was wondering what was wrong. She fidgeted and began moving things around chaotically, determined not to look at him. Harry ignored all the 'I'm busy' signals and sat down in the chair next to her before she had a chance to put stuff onto it. Desdemona had a pile of books she'd been about to set in the chair and cringed under their weight,

Harry grabbed the pile and helped set it on the table. "Hey," he greeted warmly, seeing Snape enter the library out of the corner of his eye.

"Um, hi," Desdemona replied, directing her gaze onto her book and hiding her face.

"So, are you feeling okay?" asked Harry, ignoring the piercing stare he could feel the potions professor giving him as he approached. "The nurse never told me what happened, so I just thought I'd ask."

Snape halted in his tracks, which was sadly right next to Ron, and observed the scene. Desdemona slowly moved the book down and peered out at Harry.

"She… didn't say anything?" Desdemona asked, slowly.

Harry shook his head and leaned back into a more relaxed pose. "No, should she have?"

Desdemona shook her head, but Harry was sure he saw her face crinkle into a relieved smile. "You didn't come here just to ask how I am," said Desdemona.

"My friends are ignoring me at the moment, so why else would I come?" asked Harry.

Snape looked to his left at Weasley, who was snoring and muttering about winning an award, and Granger was concentrating so hard on a book she didn't seem to notice that Finnigan was creeping his hand into her bag and trying to plant a smoke bomb, something she usually had a special radar for. He'd seen them go to the library on a weekend and had, of course, assumed something was up. But with Weasley asleep, Granger nose deep in a book, and Potter talking to Embers, it was impossible to read their minds and know if they were up to something. He peered carefully at the books. Granger was deeply involved in Advanced Transfiguration for Dedicated Students, Weasley was asleep in front of_ Quidditch Strategies: Improving old tactics while preserving classics_, and Potter had been looking through _Magical Runes: Discovering their power_. It didn't look like they were up to much other than homework and boredom.

Neville strolled into the Library and walked to the counter to show the librarian his pass. Hermione snapped her book closed and Ron awoke with a start that quickly knocked him backwards. The chair tipped into a shelf and books toppled to the floor. The librarian signed off on Neville's note and pointed him towards the restricted section, turning to yell at Ron and get Hermione her book. Ron didn't care by this point, however, because he was two feet away from Snape and had knocked a book onto him. The potions Professor launched into a barked lecture in which another book fell on him and Seamus bolted from the library like his shoes were on fire. Neville looked at the note and then over at the restricted section. His eyes traveled masterfully to the librarian, and then around the room for someone to help him. He caught sight of Snape and gave into panic, though relief flooded his features as he _'spotted'_ Harry and rushed over to him and Desdemona.

"Hey, Harry, can you help me find this book?" Neville asked.

"Err," Harry looked to Desdemona, but she was gathering up her things and muttering about how she needed to study for a test. "I guess so."

They passed Snape with what they hoped were pondering stares and made it into the restricted section without incident. With Snape so close, it was impossible to know if their plan would work or not. Harry meandered around, trying to sound bored while his insides screamed at him to grab all the potion books he could see and shrink them before Snape decided to come back there and supervise.

"What's the title again?" asked Harry, standing on a ladder and browsing through the Herbology books with little interest.

"_Poisonous Pansies and Venomous Vines_," replied Neville, searching below Harry. "…It's for extra credit," he added.

Harry decided against questioning that response and instead pushed the ladder over towards the potions section, which was thankfully close enough to Herbology that if Ron and Hermione failed to create a long enough distraction, Harry still had a chance of getting the book. He caught a glance of '_Interrogation: Dealing with an uncooperative hostage_.' And grabbed it. He opened the book and sped through the table of contents; finding many horrific methods, such as Dementores, Poison, Amputation, Threats, and Unforgivables. Harry flipped to the page consisting of the Truth potion and grabbed Luna's camera from a pocket in his robe.

He snapped a picture, turned the page, snapped another picture, and looked down at the Polaroids coming out as big as the book pages. He grabbed the plant as Neville handed it to him, and waited impatiently for it to do its thing. Eventually, the plant stretched forward and spit a glob of salmon colored goo onto the papers, which immediately shrank, and the plant ate them. Neville had already found his book, handed it to Harry, and retook the plant. As casually as they could, the pair left the restricted section, grabbed up a few other Herbology books Neville had been wanting to get, checked out, and headed for the door.

"Just a moment," called Snape, striding over to them with dangerously high levels of suspicion. "Turn out your pockets."

"Have you become blind to the obviously heavy stack books I'm trying to carry," groaned Harry, having been talked into carrying all the books so Neville could carry the plant.

"That brings up an interesting question," hissed Snape, turning his attention to the student he **could** scare into admitting everything. "You brought that plant, how were you expecting to carry all these books?"

"I was going to ask Desdemona to take the plant as she needed to draw it for Herbology Club, but she left before I could," lied Neville. "And I heard Ron say that Hermione was dragging them to the library because she wanted to do extra transfiguration work, and told them they should get their homework done."

"So?" demanded Snape, angered by the fact that Neville avoided eye contact almost religiously.

"So I figured I'd ask one of them to help," finished Neville, side glancing Harry for any sign that the lie worked.

Ron chose this moment to invite himself into the conversation, having heard the lie, and pretended to remember that he'd offered to help Neville carry the books.

"Very well," growled Snape. "But, Potter, if I ever catch you in that section again there will be hell to pay."

"Fine," said Harry, addressing the wall.

With a final scrutinizing glare, Snape stalked away down the hallway, leaving the three boys to revel in their victory. Back in the common room, Neville began reading the books and left Harry and Ron to wipe off the Polaroids. Hermione entered a few minutes later, carrying a stack of Transfiguration books.

"Why did you get all those?" demanded Harry. "We're supposed to be working on the truth potion!"

"Oh, relax," snapped Hermione. "I can do both."

"She's mad," whispered Ron, into Harry's ear. "Desdemona scored higher on the test than she did."

Hermione sat down with a defining thud, making it clear that she didn't want to talk about it. They stared at the Polaroids with growing despair.

"This is one complicated potion," sighed Ron. "No wonder they only trust Snape to do it."

"Well of course it's hard," said Hermione. "Otherwise everyone would make it."

"Can we make it?" asked Harry.

"I don't know," sighed Hermione. She reread the ingredients and shook her head. "We need a bigger cauldron, a piece of silver… I don't know where we are supposed to get all this."

"When's the next Hogsmeade visit?" Harry asked.

"Not for a week," sighed Ron.

"That's good," said Harry, pulling his homework bag towards him.

"Is it?" Ron asked looking to Hermione as Harry had pulled out his Astronomy report and quill.

Hermione busied herself with putting the Polaroids back into the plant. She didn't want to answer at that moment because her mind was trying to find a reason for it being a good thing that they had to wait. She clearly remembered Harry saying that he wanted to get this all over with as soon as possible. She was saved, however, from answering by Harry.

"I wanted this done as quickly as we could," he reminded them, not looking up from his report. "If we have to wait a week then it will give us time we need to work on homework, arrange our plans to match the potion's needs, and think about other possibilities as we really haven't committed to this yet and there is still time to try other things."

"Are you lot always this organized?" Neville asked, closing his book and placing it on the chair next to him.

"No," Ron admitted before Hermione could speak, the look on her face showing she was going to lie and say that they were. "Usually we're bothering Hagrid for answers until he won't speak to us, then we'll make up with him while looking through the library. Then something big happens involving the use of Harry's invisibility cloak, and then-"

"Ron!" Hermione interrupted, handing the plant to Neville so he could take care of it. "We just get busy with other things, that's all!"

"Not this year," said Harry. "When Ginny comes we'll ask her to give back the camera and tell Luna about the wait. Until then we forget this and work on the other things that get us distracted."

Silence flooded the room and an unusual awkwardness filtered among them. Harry had basically told them to shut up and not screw this thing over. Hermione set to work on her Arithmancy project at a table near the fire. Ron set to reading his book on goal keeping. Neville took the plant and what he could carry of his books up into the dormitory, and Harry continued work on his Astronomy report. Outside there was laughter as a lot of students were enjoying the first rain-free day they'd had all week. Harry assumed one of the Quidditch teams had reserved the field. Alicia had appointed Katie as team Captain because Harry said he had too many other things to concentrate on and usually was more concerned with what the snitch was doing than watching everyone else. A captain had to be someone down on the field watching and Katie was the oldest member.

"Oh no!" Harry slammed his report into his bag in a frenzy and caused Ron and Hermione to jump in alarm.

"What is it?" Ron asked.

"What's wrong, Harry?" Hermione demanded.

"Quidditch practice," groaned Harry. "Katie reserved the field because Firenze told her it wouldn't rain today!"

The teachers around the school who learned the reason behind Mrs. Umbridge's state of affairs had developed secret ways of thanking Harry, Ron, Ginny, Hermione, Neville, and Luna. Firenze's way was to set aside his inclination of calling weather fortunes trivial, and said he assumed it would help them to learn things like that so they could plan events better. Flitwick was adding small new charms at the end of every class for them to practice on their own. He included a few nasty little charms Harry had seen in a book called _Revenge: for those who've had enough_.

A book he, surprisingly enough, got as a gift from professor Flitwick, who said it was for use in Harry's DADA club. Professor McGonagall, while the most thankful, had maintained her rule against favoritism. Although, she had allowed Neville in her class and gave them all small smiles throughout the day. She had followed through on her promise though and had been taking great care to make sure Harry's Transfiguration grade was in Exceeds Expectations through nightly classes, right after dinner.

Ron was to his feet in milliseconds and raced after Harry, waving a quick goodbye to Hermione and almost ramming into the wall because of it. Together they charged down the hall and Harry was struck with an idea. He stopped at a painting of a dressed up witch wearing a mask that was dancing with a mop. When she saw them she simply said, "My husband is playing cards," and continued her dance.

"You dance with such grace, I simply can't keep pace," said Harry, fidgeting with his hands as he resisted the urge to yell at her to hurry up.

The witch smiled and bowed majesticaly, swinging forward to reveal stairs. The two boys hurried through and climbed onto a platform that looked to have been made from many different pieces and connected at the sides.

"What a wonderful sight, my heart's taking flight," Harry called.

The witch snickered. "Quidditch pitch it is then," she said.

Before Ron could ask, the platform's front dropped and became a slide. They slid with increasing speed and Ron could only see a wall at the end. Harry had only read about this passage last night in his Father's journal and was now remembering that it hadn't appeared on the marauder's map. His mind raced with thoughts about why it wasn't on the map and if there was a defect, but then they passed right through the wall and were launched out into some bushes. Harry, grumbling, picked himself up and turned a scowl towards the wall, which now held a chalk drawing of the dancer, giggling.

"Sorry, James," she smiled.

"What?" Harry turned around, ignoring Ron who was rubbing his head and muttering curses.

"Oh!" the dancer put her hands over her mouth and her cheeks turned red. "Sorry, I thought…" but she never finished, she just waved them off hurriedly, pointing to the clock. Ron stood up and pushed his was through the bushes, dragging Harry behind him. They arrived at the Quidditch pitch three minutes later and were pleased to see they were the first there.

"Y'know, Harry," said Ron, admiring the locker room with newfound respect. "We find a few more of those and we may be able to survive this year without running into Snape in the hallways."

Harry shot him a look and they both froze, waiting for menacing laughter or footsteps that would signal that Snape had heard them and was waiting to interrupt with some snide comment that he knew would make them jump. He would, of course, have some desperately terrible excuse for being there such as 'the headmaster asked me to give you this note,' or 'I was looking for you' anything really. Just as they could hear 'Nice try, Weasley,' in their minds, Katie trotted in.

"Wha?" She stopped, staring at them in confusion. "You're early."

"Have you already forgotten Angelina and Oliver?" Harry asked. "Be early or listen to my hour long rant."

Katie nodded with a smile. "It's still hard to believe that you and I are the only two originals left," she admitted. "No offense, Ron. I mean, I tried to convince Angelina and Alicia to fail and get held back but…"

"You were the only one up for that?" Harry jested, knowing that third years were the ones allowed to keep their brooms on school, he'd been the only acceptation in years, and Katie was only one year ahead of him in school.

"Actually," she smiled honestly. "Yes, that's why I'm captain… though Angelina left me strict instructions for basically the whole year."

"So what's the first order of business?" Ron asked, trying to get into the conversation.

"Actually, I've decided to make a few changes," Katie admitted, looking meaningfully at Ron, who gulped.

"Such as?" Harry asked as Ginny trotted in ready to proclaim that she was quitting as a Seeker and would like a position as a Chaser.

"Okay!" She began, full rant mode, thrusting her bag of gear that George and Fred had sent her into an open locker. "I don't want to be Seeker! It's too hard and we're going to loose every time! I don't have the skill for it as much as Harry does! I quit! I want to be on the team but not as a Seeker. Don't argue, we'll lose and I just don't think it's the right move to keep me in such a difficult position!"

All three of the other teenagers simply sat there and let her rant. Katie was filing her nails as Ginny finished and had barely batted an eye at the whole speech.

"Sit down, Ginny," spoke Katie, addressing her nails. "Harry is Seeker, you're a Chaser."

"…Oh," Ginny became suddenly silent and sat down next to Ron, who gave her a brotherly smile full of taunting. She stuck out her tongue at him and crossed her legs.

"Right… now that everyone actually decent is here," Katie began, filing her last nail and examining it. "I have a few things I want to address."

"Go on," Harry pushed, abandoning the process of setting up his locker and instead coming towards the board that Oliver had always used to show them plays.

Katie joined him and they cast impatient looks at Ginny and Ron, who bolted from their seats and rushed over.

"So, this year is very important for Gryffindor, what with loosing most of our players and everything," Katie started, rubbing her hands together slowly. "Harry, you have to prove yourself again this year and I wasn't at all impressed with your actions during our last practice." She looked to Ron as if waiting for him to argue, and to Harry's irritation, he didn't do anything except mouth 'sorry' to Harry.

"I know," said Harry curtly, staring at a random insect which froze under his stare.

"Anyway," Katie continued, sounding more cheerful now. "You work on that, Harry."

"Yeah, sure," Harry replied simply, releasing the bug from his glower.

"Alright, Ginny, you're Chaser with me, Ron, you're our Keeper. Harry, our returning secret weapon," Katie announced, pointing toward the board so that their names showed up. "If Andrew and Jack don't get here soon then they're off the team," she added gleefully.

"But we couldn't find anyone better!" Ron exclaimed.

Katie let out a short laugh. "Professor Dumbledore opened up the exchange program to help unite other schools with ours," she reminded them. "I found some kids from America and let me tell you, they've got talent. One guy is looking for a challenge and I wouldn't be surprised to see him take on Goyle or Crabbe. The girl keeps him in check and she sure can swing a club. Oh, and the Chaser is the best I've seen on a school team."

"Where are they?" Ginny asked hurriedly.

"Asleep, I suppose," Katie shrugged. "They're not doing well with the time change."

"What?" Ron gaped.

"Well, from what they told me, they were going to try and stay up for twenty-four hours and get adjusted that way, but with classes the next morning they haven't had time so they've been sleeping after their last classes, doing homework all night and missing dinner."

"Who are they?" Harry asked, feeling slightly bad for not noticing these three.

"Mike Skelington, Sara Widowstep, and get this, Chase Ferociter," Katie smiled, making the names appear on the board. "They'll come down the moment they wake up."

Fifteen minutes later they were all dressed and grumbling that Andrew and Jack had not bothered to show up. All questions of what the America's were like got little response from Katie, who was marching them out onto the field and checking her watch every few minutes. Harry mounted his Firebolt with a happy memory of Sirius, kicked off and was relieved to feel the wind in his face. Katie blew her whistle and they all gathered into a circle.

"Okay, Ginny, I'll be passing to you," Katie explained, opening a bag tied to her broom which contained two Quaffles. "Harry, you try to score past Ron, okay… Go!" she clapped her hands together, completely forgetting her whistle, and they all zoomed off to practice. Harry had only managed to score once against Ron, who, as it turned out, had been made practice all summer by Fred and George. Things were looking good when Ginny's voice broke through in a high scream of-

"Will you at least tell us what one of the Americans is like?!" Ginny yelled. "Like- like Sara, what's she like?"

"Well she has this long shock of dark brown hair that is usually pulled back into a ponytail with some sort of fuzzed-up scrunchy," replied a voice. "She's got honey colored eyes that look like sunlight through amber, and a sassy-cause-I-want-to-be attitude. She's a vixen but she's also a competition addict that turns evil in seconds."

Harry located the voice coming from a boy with blue dyed hair, who was lazily drifting around on his broom. He looked to them each in turn and then down at the field where the girl he had just mentioned was yelling at him to quit fooling around. When he turned his head, Harry saw streaks of scarlet through his hair, which was just long enough to tie back into a ponytail. He dropped the front end of his broom and plummeted down to the field, where he made an overly graceful landing and stared tiredly over at the girl, who was fuming over towards him with her fists clenched.

"What's up, Sarah," he greeted her with a dim smile.

"You told us to get ready and then left without us. You weasel!" Sara yelled, stomping closer to him so that she was inches away from his face.

"So?" the boy smiled back, ignoring the confused looks radiating off Ginny, Katie, Ron, and Harry.

"So?!" Sarah ranted. "So you have the map! We've been lost for ages, Mike!"

Mike flipped upside-down and gripped his broom tightly with his legs before letting go with his hands and coming closer to Sarah so that they were eye-to-eye. He placed his hands behind his head in a relaxing pose and simply smiled.

"butcha made it and you probably know the school pretty well by now."

"I hate you," Sara replied, shaking her head, though a smile was creeping up her face at the funny position he was in.

Mike grinned and looked up at Harry, Ron, Ginny, and Katie, who were staring down at him with curious stares and shocked expressions. Katie was the first to snap out of it and shook her team out of it before diving down to meet the newcomers.

"Sorry we're late, Katie," Sara apologized, clasping her hands together in what Harry assumed was an attempt not to strangle Mike, who had turned around but was still completely upside-down with all the blood running into his face.

"That's alright, are you ready to play?" Katie asked, staring oddly at Mike, who was feeling light headed and looked ready to fall off, though Harry doubted he had the strength to pull himself back up and right himself.

"Yes," Sara nodded; she looked over her shoulder and whistled with her thumb and middle finger in her mouth. "Hey, Chase!"

A blond boy came loping over, carrying two cases that looked oddly like guitar cases, only longer. He had more of a feminine face and child-like blue eyes that were blinking as if seeing the morning sun for the first time.

"Coming," he called.

Harry dismounted his broom and was surprised to see Mike reach up to grab his broom, then simply release his grip with his legs and make a decent landing without injury. Ron dismounted and fell over, concentrating more on the newcomers than he was on himself. Chase halted in front of Sara and handed her a pink case with hearts on it.

"Wow, a Firebolt!" Chase observed, his eyes glowing in the light from Harry's broom. "That's Europe's best model!"

"_Europe's_ best?" Harry questioned, not liking the sound of that at all.

"Well, yeah, I mean," Chase smiled nervously. "I mean, the Asian countries have their own brands, the Americas have theirs, the Middle East has their own, and well you know."

Harry stared at him for a few minutes, feeling slightly stupid. Of course there were other models and of course there were Witches and Wizards all over the world, yet still it surprised him to hear of so many.

"That's right!" exclaimed Katie. "You lot have different brooms than us!"

"Can we see them?" Ron practically begged.

Sara plopped her case down on nothing, much to the surprise of Harry. It simply floated there while she unlatched it and propped the lid open. Chase was soon behind her with his surfing inspired case. Mike simply pulled his broom down and turned it so they could see the name. _Platinum Dart_ was written in shinning silver letters. The broom itself was mostly black, though the handle and bristles were platinum and it sparkled when Mike turned it. Sara took out a hot pink broom with a fire red handle and bristles. It was called _Heart Breaker_ and sure enough there were color changing hearts decorated throughout it and her name was supported in rose quarts just before the bristles.

"My daddy makes custom brooms," she explained, staring lovingly at a picture of her father that she had taped to the satin interior of the case.

Chase pulled out a white broom that was swirled with black, the handle was crimson, but the bristles were silver. On the side, in lettering that must have been airbrushed on and enchanted as it looked very ghost like, was written: _Shadow Phantom._

"A Phantom!" yelped Ron, seeming struck by what he was seeing.

Chase stared lovingly at his broom and nodded, holding it out for all to see.

"What exactly would your broom be if compared to one of ours," Katie asked Mike.

"Hmm," Mike set himself in an over exaggerated thinking pose and scrunched up his face as he thought. "Well, the creator of the Silver Arrow series helped make the Platinum Dart, so it would be near one of those. However, Americans love fast and flashy rides so I know they built it for speed, see the shape and curves?"

Katie grabbed Harry's Firebolt while he was busy looking over Chase's Phantom, and held it up to Mike's broom. Mike snatched his broom away and looked overly hurt.

"I shall not have my broom compared, especially against a Firebolt," he stated in a pout. "What a burn."

"I wasn't comparing!" Katie shot back. "I just wanted to see if it had some of the same designs!"

"Aha!" Mike spun around. "You accuse us of copying!"

"It's pretty," Ginny was telling Sara, as they admired her broom. "I wish I could get one like that."

"You're so cute!" Sara beamed at Ginny. "And hey, I'm sure daddy won't object to making a friend of mine a broom. He was really nervous about sending me here."

"Oh, I couldn't ask him to do that now could I," said Ginny, embarrassed. "And I don't really have any money."

Sara made a strange slapping gesture with her left hand and rolled her eyes. "Not a problem," she stated. "He fixes Mike's broom all the time for free. Besides, you can always send him yours, like a trade in. He'll probably be fascinated with a European model."

"The Phantom," Ron gaped. "Harry, this broom is almost legendary."

"Well that's good, isn't it," Harry mused, mostly just to annoy Ron.

"That's amazing, not many people can ride these," Ron whispered, looking the broom over for the twelfth time. "The creators were daredevils lead by some sort of prince. They made it with the core of wood only found in the Shadow Forest, and then added some of the prince's own blood-"

"That's right!" Interrupted Ginny, having read that legend a million times. "The prince was mourning over the loss of his love, who had died. He said she flew so magnificently that she was at her best against Angels. So he created a line of brooms called Angels. He wouldn't sell them in Europe because she had been killed there. Anyway, he gave his own blood and created two broom lines in the Angel series. The Phoenix, and The Phantom. I think there are only fifteen in total."

"For the last time, I just wanted to see if there were similarities so I could know how good your brooms are!" Katie hissed at Mike.

"They're as good as their riders, same as all brooms!" Mike shot back, though he was promptly hit in the back of the head by Sara.

"Enough," she said, casting him a look.

"S'alright," Mike shrugged, handing over his broom to Katie.

"How on earth did you get one?" Ron asked Chase.

"Yeah, well," Chase shrugged. "The Prince had three friends that always stayed with him and uh, well, they did of course have children."

"You're a descendant-"

"Of one of the friends," interrupted Chase modestly. "I have had to work really hard to get good at riding it."

"It looks fast," Harry observed.

"It's a hell beast," smiled Chase. "I can't really explain it, but you'd think the broom wanted to win just as much as the rider."

"I can understand that," Harry nodded. "I got the Firebolt, don't I?"

"We gotta switch some time," said Chase enthusiastically.

"Sounds fun," Harry agreed. Ron held the Firebolt in his right hand and the Phantom in his other. He looked to be on the verge of tears and kept muttering,

"We're going to win, we are going to win!"

"Ah!" Katie let out a little yell and immediately began shoving the brooms back into their cases. Harry scanned around for a reason and saw the Slytherin team marching onto the pitch. Katie grabbed Mike round the neck and began hauling him fiercely over to the locker room. Ron grabbed the Phantom case and hauled Chase along behind Katie, leaving Harry, Ginny, and Sara to run after them. They reached the safety of their lockers and Ginny was the first to speak.

"Why'd you go that?" she yelled. "Now they'll have a good laugh at us for runnin' from them."

"They can laugh all they want, but I don't want them to see our new players until game time," Katie shot back as Mike pulled himself out of the locker he'd tripped into and Chase picked himself off the floor where Ron had pushed him.

"WE haven't seen them fly yet!" Ginny retorted.

"Doesn't matter," Katie shook her head. "We, er, we'll practice at night when they can't see us."

"We can't do that," said Ginny. "Snape would lock us in detention so fast we'd get whiplash."

"What if we used the room of requirements?" Harry asked. "I mean, it's supposed to be whatever we need."

"It's worth a try, I'll meet you guys there tomorrow at seven," announced Katie. "Um, Sara, Mike, Chase, do try not to be seen."

The next night Harry, Ron, Ginny, Chase, Mike, Sara, and Katie all set out for the room of requirements. They eased the painting open and told the Fat Lady they'd be back later. She ignored them for the most part, having been in the middle of a chess game, but Katie still felt better having told. They carried their brooms silently, Mike now having his in a case decorated in tribute to Elvis Presley, a case he was riding as it floated down the hall. Chase's case was black with a white mask, a red rose, and glowing white feathers billowing sparsely. They ran into Peeves, but that wasn't such a large problem as he seemed to be friend with Mike and also announced respect for the Weasley family. He gave a rant on how Harry had gotten rid of Umbridge, then began dive bombing Sara, Katie, and Chase. They ran with him howling after them, and eventually lost him when the Bloody Barren came and told him to shut up before he found himself trapped in Filtch's nose for the rest of eternity. Harry and Ron walked up and down the corridor, thinking hard about what they needed.

'A place to practice is what we need,' thought Harry. 'With lots of room and game balls.'

Ron's face was scrunched up hard as he thought. They were both soon joined by Sara, who said her daddy had an indoor simulation room his company used to test brooms. Around the fifth time they passed, a door appeared.

--

Breakfast later that week was another torturous event with Malfoy leading the Slytherin table in a cheer about Harry being a Seeker for attention. It was his dumbest cheer yet, but still left Harry feeling like some caged circus animal that was trying to fight for freedom while everyone just laughed and though he was putting on a show. He looked around to see that only a few Ravenclaw had even looked up, and everyone else was just eating breakfast. He caught sight of Desdemona to see that she looked positively infuriated with Malfoy and had abandoned her breakfast to glare at him in disgust.

The mail came and as usual, Desdemona received a letter and took off from the room like a bat out of hell. Mike was asleep on his own pancakes and his falcon landed on his head and picked at his skull until he woke up. Mike promptly began reminding his bird that there wouldn't be any mail for him unless he felt like flying across the ocean. Chase was staring at the syrup and rocking slowly back and forth, obviously not awake. He didn't have a bird and his only pet was a chinchilla which was currently eating the grains from his muffin. Sara was reading a magazine and talking furiously, sipping a double shot espresso between sentences.

Hedwig landed in Harry's pancakes and held a scroll in her beak, which she dropped into Harry's hand as he reached for it. Harry stared down at the scroll, which had been sealed with a wooden ring, and glanced up at the Staff table. Professor McGonagall, who had finally been released from Madam Pomfrey, directed her gaze over to her mug of coffee, but Professor Snape maintained his suspicious stare even as Harry met his gaze.

Harry brought his attention back to the scroll, but another thought crossed his mind and he looked to his left and right. Ron was staring at him, so he engaged in a conversation, but every chance he got he'd look around as if searching for witnesses. Breakfast sped along with Hermione reading the entire Daily Prophet cover to cover, Ron whispering about how the Phantom and the Firebolt would surely boost their chances of winning, and Neville talking about how the Tokerstashide seemed to be ill. Harry listened to all this in a wave of familiarity and was relieved when Hermione began debating Neville about a treatment for the plant, Sara went suddenly silent, and Ron began discussing tactic with Katie.

No one was watching Harry, so he eased off the bench and crept away from the table without looking at anyone. He made it out the door and down the hall without meeting anyone. He hurried up a flight of stairs and stepped into a small alcove so that he was mostly hidden in the shadows. Within seconds, Snape was storming past, obviously looking for him. Harry watched with a knowing sneer. Dumbledore was having him watched closely this year and he knew it. He debated going back to the Great Hall, but decided otherwise and headed up to the Gryffindor common room; that was until he saw Snape dragging a disoriented Professor Vector, who was able to stand, but wobbly.

Professor Vector was mouthing soundlessly as they passed. Harry ducked out of sight and followed as closely as he dared. Snape hauled Vector to the Infirmary and Harry, grabbing his cloak from behind the painting, followed.

"What happened?" Madam Pomfrey asked, helping Snape set Professor Vector on a bed.

"I left the staff room," Vector stated, sounding slightly drunk. "Then I headed to my office, but had to stop because I felt icky and… did you know you have tea on your upper lip? I had coffee, I think coffee is better in the morning."

Madam Pomfrey ignored the last comment and pushed Professor Vector down onto the bed. "Yes, yes," she said. "It'll be alright, just get some sleep now, Professor."

Snape stared at Professor Vector and then turned his attention to Madam Pomfrey, who closed the curtains around Professor Vector's bed and spoke in a low whisper.

"Same symptoms as Minerva," she announced. "Pale, disoriented… it won't be long before the coma."

"How long will this last?" Snape asked simply. "I see Minerva is up again."

"Only because she's stubborn," Madam Pomfrey replied. "She refuses to let it affect her, but she still can't teach and is having a good bit of trouble remembering things. She can't even transform anymore and that was her favorite thing to do."

"I'll get Dumbledore," said Snape in his usual drawl of a voice, and he walked out of the infirmary, leaving Harry to watch Madam Pomfrey.

"…Again it happened in the Professor's lounge?" Madam Pomfrey muttered.

When Ron and Hermione came back to the common room, Harry was waiting for them. Neville came through the portrait hole to get his books, saw the look on Harry's face and let out a sigh.

"Oh crap."

"What's happened now, Harry?" Hermione asked, ignoring Neville.

"Professor Vector was attacked," said Harry tiredly. "He has the same symptoms as McGonagall and was in the staff lounge."

"So the Hogsmead visit is…" Ron pondered.

"In two days," said Hermione. "Ron, I think it would be best if you asked your brother's for some money."

"What for?" exclaimed Ron hotly. "Like I need them on my case this year!"

"Well there are a lot of things to buy and Harry and I can't buy everything," said Hermione calmly. "Especially not with the silver, that's expensive."

"Don't worry about the silver," said Harry, hoping to cut the argument short. "I'll just write Remus and tell him I'd like to spend that day with him at Grimald Place. Remember all the silver trinkets? Besides there is bound to be a cauldron there of decent size and I'll just bring the plant to shrink it."

"… In two days?" Neville asked; his voice hesitant and small.

"Yeah," replied Harry. "You said it was sick, can we use it by then?"

"Well it's been droopy lately and not very active. I tried more food, more water, more sunlight, and now I'll try a bigger pot. If it changes I'll let you know."

"Right," sighed Harry.

--

The day of the Hogsmead trip arrived and Neville reluctantly handed over the plant, giving Harry instructions on how to take care of it. Katie grumbled about how they should be practicing, but was cut off when Mike fell asleep mid-step and landed at her feet, hugging her shoe like a teddy bear. Sara was again jazzed up on coffee- explaining that she'd bought specially so it was extra strong, and Chase ran into a column that he claimed he hadn't seen. Though judging by the fact that his eyes were closed, it was no wonder why.

"Right, so everyone have fun then," smiled Katie, helping Sara to haul Mike to his feet.

"What's wrong, pretty boy?" Malfoy taunted, coming up behind the group and staring mockingly at Chase.

"What are you, some kind of an idiot?" Sara asked without skipping a beat. "He already told you he's not interested in you so why don't you go find some snake to hump or something?"

"I appreciate that you think I'm pretty," yawned Chase. "But as she said, I'm not going out with you. I like to swim, not splash and you're way too shallow, okay?"

Malfoy stood in a mixture of shock and big blistering boils of red-hot rage. He couldn't decide which comment to respond to first and some of the comments didn't even reach his neglected brain for many minutes.

"Shut up, you yanks," he replied bitterly out of a lack of something intelligent. "The dark lord will pick you off one-by-one."

"Ask your daddy to tell him we'd prefer to go together," replied Sara, again without hesitation. "He is Voldemort's lap dog, right?"

"Funny you should mention dogs," shot Malfoy, his eyes flickering dangerously towards Harry.

"Please," groaned Sara, fanning herself dramatically. "I do not want to talk about your girlfriend."

"Woof," laughed Mike.

Malfoy's eyes seemed to be vibrating in his skull and he was consumed with so much fury that he could no nothing more than glare at them and stalk away in full tantrum mode. Sara smiled after him and Mike gave a raspberry.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione headed to the ThreeBroomsticks, where they met Hagrid. He waved them over and, since they weren't supposed to be busy, they joined him for a round of drinks. Chase stumbled in later and collapsed upon one of the tables.

"Poor, lot," said Hagrid, jerking his head towards Chase. "Been 'ere a week and 'aven' 'ad any time ta get used ta the time change, ave they."

"Yeah, and the food's terrible," said Mike, coming up behind Hagrid.

"You make an 'abit outa lisnin' in on folk?" Hagrid asked him, turning around to look at Mike.

"Yep," Mike yawned. "I have a radar that lets me know when people are talking about me or my friends. My dad says it'll help me go far in business."

"Mike!" Sara hissed, coming in and whapping him up the back of the head. "God, I can't take you anywhere."

"Rude lot, ain't they," mumbled Hagrid.

"Well, right now they're tired," Hermione shot back. "Usually they're quite pleasant."

Hagrid watched Mike pour a cup of water upon Chase's head and looked back at Hermione. Harry and Ron grinned and watched as Chase simply muttered something about needing a shower and went back to sleep. Sara ordered them all five different drinks until finally giving up and telling Rosemerta that she was sorry and to just bring them whatever the other students usually ordered. The three American's looked to the window as a slight downpour started.

"Whaddaya know," sighed Mike. "It's raining again."

"I miss Cali," moaned Chase, folding his arms under his head and staring out the window. "I miss the sunshine and the waves and the ocean breeze and the steaming hot sand that feels so perfect after you go in the cold water."

"Stop it," ordered Sara, staring at a map.

"… And I miss the taco stand," continued Chase, his eyes staring out longingly. "The tie-dye shop, the ice cream, the nachos, the pizza, the volleyball. Oh, I miss the dolphins and the-"

"We know, Chase, we know," groaned Sara, flopping the map onto the table and signing.

"Where exactly are you from?" Ron asked, ignoring Hagrid and Hermione, who were having a debate about the things the school could do to make the exchange students feel more welcome. "I mean, I know you're from across the pond, but that's all I know."

"We're all from California, it's on the west coast," Sara explained, turning her chair to face Ron. "Mike and I work at In-and-out Burger, but Chase works with his parent's at SeaWorld. That is when he's not wasting his time surfing."

"Blasphemer," Chase hissed, his normally attractive face looking dark and evil.

"It nice there?" Harry asked, also hoping to ignore Hagrid and Hermione.

"Oh, God, yes," cried Mike. "It rains, like, ten times… a year. If that, and the sun is almost always shinning. The sidewalk is hot but you get this perfect breeze off the ocean that makes it wonderful."

"Stop drooling," Sara advised.

"The surf is awesome," said Chase, his eyes growing pensively bigger. "I was on during a typhoon one time. I got up on a forty-foot wave… it was cool."

"Yes, so was your broken leg," mocked Sara, reaching over and tapping a spot just above Chase's knee. "I hate to admit it, but I miss cheeseburgers so much. If I saw a cow right now, I swear…" she let out a sigh and fell silent.

"That's an idea!" exclaimed Hermione, causing a few other patrons to look curiously over at her. "The school could have one day a week where they make a dish from one of the exchange students' countries."

"Yeah, but some of the things Mike likes… take some getting used to," said Sara, nodding to Chase for his agreement.

"I like it hot, baby," Mike grinned, rubbing his hands together. "Oh-my-God-my-tongue-is-on-fire-and-I-think-I'll-go-drink-the-ocean-now, kind of hot!"

"Well… then maybe we could just serve one dish of that and everyone else can choose to eat other things," Hermione tried, her eyes glowing in a way that told Harry and Ron that she was on a mission. "We could get a Japanese cuisine for Desdemona, Cheeseburgers for Sara," Sara as this point let out a pining groan. "Pizza for Chase. Fakhitha Bel Laban for Huraiva and her brother Nadav."

"New rule," said Ron. "If you can't pronounce it, don't eat it."

"Ron," sighed Hermione. "It wouldn't hurt you to try new things."

"You don't know that," said Ron, watching Mike steal Chase's Butterbeer as he was back to asleep anyway. "I mean, who are we to say that trying something isn't the reason the teachers are dropping."

Both Harry and Hermione swung their feet out to kick him, but it was too late.

"Wha' do ya know abou' tha'?" demanded Hagrid, pointing a finger suspiciously at Harry and staring at the three from between narrowed eyes. "I tell ya ever' year ta jus' leave it well enough alone, but ya don' listin, well listin now. Stay out of it!"

Chase was woken up and all three American's stared in curious surprise at Hagrid.

"We're not doing anything, Hagrid," protested Ron, trying his best not to look suspicious. "But come on, two subs and Professor McGonagall off her rocker. It's not easy to miss."

"Yes, Hagrid; we're curious, like everyone is, but we're not running around trying to solve it," said Hermione softly as if they had nothing to hide.

"Stay tha' way," grunted Hagrid. "After las' year-"

"We know!" snapped Harry coldly, turning his head to glare out the window. "I messed everything up, I'm aware," he mumbled.

Hagrid fell silent in his lecture and cleared his throat uncomfortably.

"Let's go," muttered Harry his voice alive with anger.

Hermione and Ron followed him outside and they headed for the shrieking shack to wait for Remus. It was strange to think that almost three years ago they'd been inside with a framed murderer and a psychotic rat that was really a very short, fat, rat-like human being by the name of Peter Pettigrew.

"What are you supposed to be staying out of?" Mike demanded, running up behind them with Sara and Chase at his heels.

"Keep your nose out of it," Hermione snapped, growing tired of Mike's constant entry into every conversation around him.

Mike stuck his tongue out at her and received a jab to the gut from Sara. Chase shook his head at the two of them and stepped forward.

"No, it's just that we were sent here because we do stuff like that," he explained. "You see, we're usually the ones people turn to when things go wrong. Headmaster Proctor sent us instead of the other four applicants because he thought we could take care of ourselves."

"Yes, but the problem is that we knew the secrets of Salem's Truth, but we know nothing about Hogwarts," said Sara, pointing to an emblem on her bag to indicate that Salem's Truth had been the name of their school.

"Are you serious?" Ron asked, seeming thunderstruck.

"Well, yeah," shrugged Mike. "You really don't survive long in the U.S. unless you know how to get your ass outa trouble."

"So anyway, we just thought that since you're obviously trying to find out something-" began Sara.

"Hold up," said Ron. "How'd you know we were up to something?"

Sara rolled her eyes and pointed to herself, "I'm an American, and not stupid. I can spot a lie from a mile away. We're not all Red-necks you know!"

"What gave us away?" Harry asked, smiling but hoping that Remus didn't show up early.

"You were reluctant to join Hagrid and from what I've seen you are good friends with him, which means you were hiding something," stated Sara. "So why don't we end the niceties and get down to business."

"We aren't doing anything," said Hermione.

"I bet that if we share information and work together we can move faster," said Chase. "We have our suspicions, but we need someone that knows the school so-"

"I told you we weren't doing anything," spoke Hermione tensely.

"We make a perfect team when you think about it, and if asked we could just say it was a Quidditch meeting since most of us are players," grinned Mike.

"We aren't doing anything!" snapped Hermione. "If you think it's a problem then you can handle it, now can't you?"

All three of them looked scorned and stared at her with mistrustful glares. In unison they simply turned and headed back through the rain. Their silhouettes were daunting and their movements laced with threat. Within moments they had vanished like ghosts.

"Well, it is good to hear you're not doing anything," called a voice. "However, shouting at a student isn't something I expected from you, Hermione."

"P-professor Lupin," gasped Hermione, spinning around to see that he'd apperated behind them. "We-we-we were just… err, well…"

"She's just sore because one of the exchange students got a better grade in transfiguration than she did," said Ron, covering magnificently. "And Snape says the girl is a Neville."

"Then study harder," instructed Lupin sternly, casting a disapproving gaze at Hermione. "Don't take it out on other students. If all else ask the student to help you."

Hermione looked ready to shout back that she **was** studying and that she didn't need help, but she held her tongue and formed it into the sentence, "Yes, professor."

Remus nodded and looked to Harry, his features softening as he did. When he'd gotten a letter from Harry that expressed the need to talk to someone about Sirius, he'd though it would have been an insult to say no and had even agreed not to tell Dumbledore as Harry said he didn't want pity from the Headmaster.

"You ready?" he asked. "I've got a port key to a safehouse in London, we can take the Knightbus to Grimaul Place if you want."

Harry nodded and waved farewell to Ron and Hermione. He felt bad about deceiving Remus, but Hermione had been the one to come up with the lie. She said Remus probably needed to talk about it anyway so all Harry had to do was spend a few hours listening and he could grab something silver from Kreacher's cupboard and get back to Hogwarts before anyone was the wiser.


	3. Now What?

(Chapter 3.)

Harry Potter stared across the table at the pale figure of Remus Lupin, who was explaining what had happened that horrible day at the Ministry.

"Sirius figured out the trick before anyone," said Remus, his eyes focused on Harry. "Professor Snape showed up, mocking Sirius as usual, and nonchalantly explained that you'd had a vision," he continued with noticeable bite in his voice.

"Git," Harry grumbled.

Remus wasn't prepared to argue, nor did he want to so he continued the story and his eyes misted over and drifted to the past as he spoke. "Sirius jumped up and said you'd try to help him. Severus said that Umbridge had you and your lot well captured. Sirius said that it didn't matter. Somehow you'd escape and go to the ministry," he paused and looked proudly at Harry. "When Snape asked how he knew that, Sirius told him that James would have done the same thing if he thought a friend's life depended on it.

Then Snape said something about a hero complex, and Sirius replied that it was better to have a hero complex than a coward complex and began sending word for everyone to meet at the Ministry."

"But why did he go?" Harry asked, suddenly very interested and caught-up in the story. "Why didn't anyone stop him?"

"You, Harry," said Remus. "He came for you, as you thought you'd come for him. There wasn't any stopping him. Severus tried and got a nasty hex for his trouble; though saying 'Don't worry, Black. I'll go rescue what's left of your Godson, you go hide,' was asking for it. That's why he didn't come with us by the way."

'No wonder he feels guilty, he taunted him into going,' thought Harry, reminded of Snape's lecture.

"Sirius went that night to protect you," said Remus. "Though, I admit a part of him wanted to be there personally because he felt guilty for handling the Peter ordeal wrong. Said it was his fault that Voldemort was back because if he'd have just found some different way to handle Peter then things would have been different."

"But, but he had to go after Peter the night my parent's died!" exclaimed Harry. "Peter brought Voldemort back. If Sirius hadn't forced him into hiding then he'd have brought Voldemort back sooner."

"Yes, well," sighed Remus, looking very tired. "Sirius often daydreamed about what things would be like if he'd never trusted that damned rat."

Harry was quiet and so was Remus, the mood became graver by the ticks of the clock and every time they tried to say something their words suddenly seemed stupid and they lost interest. Harry mumbled something about wondering where Krecher was and Remus shrugged.

"Off with Bellatrix I suppose," he said. "But Krecher broke the biggest House Elf rule. He helped bring his master's death. For all I know he's hanged himself somewhere with a note pinned to him that he'd like his head mounted on the wall."

"Don't get your hopes up," said Harry scornfully. "He may be alive… though it's nice to think he's suffering, isn't it."

Remus did not answer. Dumbledore told them not to be mad at Krecher, but Remus remembered that night all too well.

"Did…" Harry stopped, not sure if he should ask the question that had tormented him all summer.

"Go one," encouraged Remus. "We're here to talk about this."

Harry avoided his eye and addressed the table instead. "…Did he… I mean, did it seem like, or did he say anything about how I could have used the marauder mirror to contact him instead of trying the fireplace?"

Remus froze. He did not move or blink because his unconscious quest to blame someone for that night other than Bellatrix and Krecher had gotten a hit. If Harry had the mirror then why didn't he use it! If he had used it then this entire thing could have been avoided! Sirius would still have been alive and they would have known Krecher was a spy and been able to stop him! Ever since that night he'd convinced himself that it had been an unavoidable tragedy, yet now he knew of the simple precaution that would have prevented it! He'd wondered why Sirius always kept that mirror at hand, and when it would have helped the most Harry hadn't used his!

Harry felt the silence was over him and sighed. In the end it was his fault and no one could argue that. He thought about telling Remus that himself, Ron, Hermione, and even Neville had suspicions as to what was making the professors sick. He thought about fessing up to everything he'd heard and even swearing to butt-out.

"You should be getting back to school," said Remus, standing up and forcing his chair to slide backwards and topple over. "I'll go call the Knightbus for you."

Harry was quieted as Remus left the room. He snatched the plant out of his bag with new determination, yanked open the cupboard, grabbed a silver goblet and watched it become smaller and smaller. He stowed the plant back in his bag and rushed out the door. Remus didn't seem to notice or care that it had taken a while and said a quick goodbye as Harry boarded the knightbus.

"What's wrong, mate?" Ron asked at breakfast, noticing that Harry was glummer that he'd seen him in a while.

"Nothing," lied Harry. "Where's Neville?"

"He said something about the plant and then disappeared," said Ron, looking nervously around.

"Let's go find him," shrugged Harry, getting up from his seat at the table and heading for the door in time to see Desdemona run by in a hurry. They entered the Gryffindor common room and saw Hermione and Neville gathered around a large pot.

"Oh!" gasped Hermione, realizing they'd entered. "We've got a problem?

"So what else is new?" Harry mumbled as Hermione rushed him forward.

"What problem? haven't we reached our problem limit yet?" Ron asked.

"…Well, the plant had seedlings," began Neville, pointing towards four new plants. "It teaches its seedlings how to shrink things by having them shrink something it already has. Two papers plus the silver and the cauldron mean four seedlings in this case."

"So what? The other one just spit them out for us," shrugged Ron, looking to Harry for an agreement.

"Well that one was trained," said Neville tensely, looking nervous. "I haven't had time to train these yet."

"This is stupid, let's just cut them open and get the papers," said Ron, striding towards the plants.

"Sure, if you're not attached to your hands," spoke Neville. "The mamma is quite protective."

"Neville was just telling me that he thinks he can train them in a matter of weeks," Hermione explained.

And so their plans were delayed as Neville trained the four seedlings. In a week he had them trained to pay attention to him, but they were still biting anyone who came near. The older plant tried repeatedly to show the seedlings how to unshrink something by eating a rock and spitting it out again repeatedly. Neville made many comments on how good a parent it was being, but he also admitted that the sprouts were feisty. The older plant shielded them with its petals and made sure they ate, but looked very ready for them to be moved into their own pots.

"First time parenting is tough," said Neville one morning at breakfast. "If it has more it'll be easier."

"Don't count on it," muttered Ron, staring over at the Slytherin table. "Then they'll get jokes about what number in the litter they were."

The only thing going according to schedule was Quidditch practice. The American's were trying to arrange a sleeping schedule, but practices interfered with that and their nights were spent doing things they refused to discuss. However, with a match quickly approaching Katie was pushing the team hard, having been threatened by Oliver that she'd better get the cup this year and make a 'damn good run of it,' too. Chase was a magnificent sight on his broom and pulled very acrobatic stunts as he caught the Quaffle and it was amazing to see that his broom hypnotized anyone who watched it too closely as he seemed to dance in the air.

Mike and Sara were a demolition crew and raced across the room slamming their clubs against the Bludgers. They had a tennis match going for a little while and spoke of getting both bludgers under their control during the game. Harry hadn't been so excited about a Quidditch match since his third year. The team was in prime condition and Katie announced that Dumbledore was going to watch as she'd refused to tell him who was on the team. Harry didn't feel the same excitement that phrase would have usually brought him, in fact he almost felt that Dumbledore was butting-in on the one good thing Harry had left to enjoy.

Neville had taught the plants to unshrink things on command and Ron and him had started a business selling the plants. By the end of the month Gryffindor students were walking the halls with grandly lighter bags, and Ron was walking around with grandly heavier pockets. He sent the first wave of profits to his parents with a letter that he'd earned money, legally of course, and was sending them some to prove how good the idea was. He included that it wasn't interfering with school work either and told that it would make him immensely happy if they got new robes.

Ron had never walked the halls prouder than he had that day. He was proud of his parents for sacrificing so much in order to raise their children. He loved having a big family and wanted nothing more than to express his gratitude, without actual words. They got the message and sent Ron a picture of themselves in brand new robes which looked amazingly good on them. Ron and Neville were soon selling to the Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff students, and Ron had even sold one to Professor Dumbledore. Hermione, however, was spending her time working on the potion with Harry. They were forced to use the girl's lavatory again and Moaning Murtle was a constant annoyance, as usual.

"Powdered salt from an Angel's tears, scale of dragon, tongue of frog, leaf of wild rose, root of Cannabis, three inches of 18 gauge silver, and a skin shedding from a Chimera," Hermione said, adding the carefully measured ingredients into their cauldron.

The liquid sparked and sizzled eerily before it let out an enormous flash and purple smoke engulfed them. Coughing, Harry fanned the smoke away with a piece of parchment and stared into the cauldron where the liquid had gone perfectly clear. Hermione stared at it in grand pleasure and seemed quite content with herself.

"Well, it took us a while, but it's done," she smiled.

"Grand," said Harry, ladling some into a vial. Hermione sighed and followed his lead until they had all the potion stored in fourteen vials, one of which Harry planned to slip into Malfoy's breakfast right before asking him if he picked his nose when nobody was watching.

Hermione wanted to use one on Desdemona and get her to tell who had given her the answers to the Arithmancy test. Ron wanted to give his to Percy and ask him why he was such a major git and if it was because he had the hots for Fudge or something. Neville planned to use his on Snape and get him to tell the class why he hated Harry and then Neville planned to ask if there was any chance that Draco was really his son. Ginny, who'd already heard about the potion, planned to give hers to a boy she liked and ask if he liked her back. However, Luna wanted to give hers to Fudge the next time she saw him and ask about his Goblin stews. Everyone had two vials and Hermione had enchanted the insides of special rings so that the vials could be poured into them and they could be added to a drink discretely.

They had to give a ring to every DA member so that no one would get suspicious if they wore them and Hermione was helping to aid the rumor that the rings would cut off the finger of the first person to either betray the club, or try to remove the ring. Harry observed that she seemed to find it quite funny when she heard the rumor around school.

"And the best part is that if a teacher calls me on it I can just laugh and say it's a silly rumor," she giggled.

"You're getting scary," said Ron, his ears pink and a goofy grin creeping across his face.

Harry knew this would be another increasingly less rare moment where his two friends forgot he was there and began flirting with each other. He sat back to watch the show, and waved Seamus over as he entered.

"Scary?" Hermione asked. "You're judging too quickly again. All I'm saying is that-"

"No, no, I mean," Ron held out his hands as he spoke as if warding off an attack. "I **like** it," he admitted.

"Oh," giggled Hermione as her face turned red.

"You're amazing cute when you're being evil," said Ron, his foot circling in front of him nervously.

"You're terrible," smiled Hermione, batting her eyes and turning her head away from him in something like embarrassment.

Ron moved boldly closer and Hermione began swaying her shoulders back and fourth seductively. Ron reached out and brushed a clump of frizzy hair out of her face and spoke in a charming whisper.

"One might even say you're beautiful."

Hermione giggled appreciatively stared into his eyes lovingly. He met her gaze and felt like millions of thin worms were wriggling around inside him and suddenly he was hot.

'Okay,' Hermione told herself. 'Don't smile, don't, don't, don't!'

She began feeling warm and her lips sprung into an alarming smile that looked like she was drunk and about to laugh.

'No!' she lectured herself. 'Oh this is awful!'

Ron, however, was too busy with the sudden slobbering sensation in his own mouth to notice and rocked closer to her.

'Oh my God,' Hermione thought, her breath catching in her chest. 'He's going to kiss me! Oh I wonder what it'll be like? Is he rough or gentle? I wonder if he loves me? I hope he's not expecting tongue on the first kiss. I wish there was some music playing, or a fire. Oh, this is going to be magical!'

Ron eased closer still, he was muttering about her degrees of cuteness per mood but wasn't paying attention to his words. His pals were sweating and suddenly he became aware that his arms were stiff and numb at his sides.

'Kiss her you fool!' he ordered himself. 'Do it! Oh, God! I can see myself in her eyes! Crap, I look stupid. Errr. Do something, kiss her before she notices the spot on your nose!' he moved in closer, tilting his head and leaning in. 'Put your hands SOMEWHERE!' he demanded. 'Not on her butt, on her back, on her back!'

Hermione leaned in and their noses touched, both of them let out a nervous, soundless laugh. Slowly she closed her eyes and felt her lips tremble with anticipation.

"Ya think they gonna kiss?" Seamus asked Harry. "Do it!" he encouraged Ron.

With a sound like a record being pulled back, Hermione and Ron froze and slowly their gaze drifted to two chairs where Seamus and Harry were staring at them while eating a bowl of popcorn. Hermione and Ron jumped away from each other with astounding speed and looked away, yammering devotedly about either feeling tired or thinking of going to the nurse.

"Nurse can't fwix luv," Seamus teased, rising to his feet and grasping Ron's shoulders. "Gib us a kissy."

"Get lost!" Ron ordered, throwing him off with heated embarrassment.

Snickering, Seamus tottered up to the dorm room leaving Harry to stare at his two friends with an amused smirk.

The hours until dinner passed uncomfortably for Ron and Hermione, who avoided eye contact the entire time. They hardly spoke to each other and when they sat next to each other at the Gryffindor table, they leapt apart and sat at opposite ends of the table. Harry sat down next to Neville and grinned at Ron and Hermione whenever they looked at him.

"What do we try now?" Sara whispered to Chase, who was staring doubtingly at the kidney pie in front of him, all the while his stomach groaned and gurgled.

"I'm gonna throw up, you can do what you want," Chase replied through clenched teeth. His face was a slight green color and his lips were pale.

"Oh, now what?" snapped Hermione, staring at them in disgust. "You hate our weather, you hate our food; why don't you just go back to America? Now, I know the food isn't what you're used to but what you said is just rude!"

Sara glowered at her and put her hand gently on Chase's shoulder. "He has some sort of stomach virus," she hissed at Hermione. "Hasn't been able to eat anything for two days and FYI, it's hard to uproot and move to a place that is entirely different. My meals used to consist of at least one deep-fried product, I need oil; it maintains my system!"

"Urk," moaned Chase, slumping sideways onto Mike, who didn't seem to mind as he simply grinned at him in support and continued his conversation with Nearly Headless Nick.

"Well then take him to the nurse, not down here around the food," said Hermione, slightly softer than her last comment.

"Your nurse has a different potion than ours and he's allergic to one of the ingredients," growled Sara. "If we stay in the common room Peeves throws stuff at him and in the hallways some of the Slytherin tried to hex us!"

"Dontcha miss the trashcan hazings?" Mike asked. "Push someone in a trashcan and BAM, you're good, they're initiated, everything's cool."

"You're going to be okay for the match, right?" Katie demanded, leaning so far across the table that her hair was in the fruit salad.

Chase nodded, but both Mike and Sara glanced fretfully at each other.

"I was told to ask," he looked down at a note. 'Professor Snape, for a draught of-" he stopped and his hand shot over his mouth as he turned a sicker shade of green.

Yes, Chase followed the orders and after dinner he traveled down to the dungeons, his skin pale and clammy. When they saw him next it was as he entered the common room and was surrounded by Mike and Sara.

"Said he didn't have time until later this week and by then it'll be two days till potency," he moaned, collapsing onto the floor as all the chairs and poofs were taken.

"That's after the match!" Katie shrieked, running over to Chase. "… Maybe it'll clear up by then…" she added hopelessly.

"It's too late to find a replacement," Ron groaned. "I'll bet that git doesn't know who's on the team so he's not taking any chances."

"I'll be okay," Chase protested.

"You two!" Katie snapped. "Stay away from him, it could be contagious!" She yanked them away and began instructing all the Gryffindor to stay away, less they infect one of the Quidditch players.

Mike and Sara approached Chase in silent protest and pulled him to his feet. Their eyes were set and determined and they marched out of the portrait hole without a word.

"Where are you going!" Katie called after them, wondering what method of murder Oliver would use on her.

However, the Americans marched on without a word and soon disappeared from sight. Katie retreated to her room with a sigh and the rest of the Gryffindor were close behind her. It wasn't long before Neville, Ron, Hermione, Ginny, and Harry were all that was left. They discussed the best way to approach the DADA professor and how they would give him the truth potion.

"We could always ask for extra lessons and then bring him some tea as thanks," offered Ginny.

"It'd never work," said Hermione. "Not when it's school-wide knowledge that Harry's teaching us defense."

"Why don't we tell him…" Neville faded off and stared over at his Tokerstashide plants.

"We could try to slip it into his goblet," Ron shrugged as if the idea was pointless.

"Dobby!" cried Harry.

"What?" his companions asked; startled.

"Dobby can do it!" Harry explained.

"…But how do we go and see him?" Hermione asked pointedly.

"Yeah, the house elves hate her," sighed Ron, pointing his pinky at Hermione as the rest of his hand was holding his head up.

"They do not, they just don't understand that-"

"Well we can just wait here as he's been the one cleaning our common room," said Harry, cutting the rant short. "None of the other elves come up here as they're insulted by Hermione's knitting projects."

"But-"

"Well he'll be happy to see you," Ron grinned at Harry.

"Oh go snog Hermione," Harry replied, wiping the smug grin of Ron's face.

Ginny giggled as Ron's ears turned the color of his hair and he proceeded to try and shrink into his clothing.

"What!" Hermione gapped, her eyes staring straight forward as a substitute walked into their Magical Languages classroom and announced that professor Teijina was ill.

Harry jabbed her in the ribs and she quickly collected herself. The three Americans had their heads together and were whispering urgently and all around the class there was murmurs of the creature that was attacking the teachers.

"Nonsense," Hermione huffed. "There is no creature lurking around, it has to be a person!"

After the class they sprinted to the infirmary to see that they weren't alone. Many students were huddled around, listening eagerly and trying to get a peek inside. Lee Jordan was telling anyone who would listen that it was just a very talented prankster and whoever it was could tell him without fear as all he'd do is try to get that person a job working for Fred and George. Hermione let out a low growl and nearly ran into Desdemona, who was looking absolutely mortified and shaking.

"There's no need to be scared," said Hermione, speaking as if addressing a small child. "It… it's probably just a prank and I'm sure they'll catch the one doing it."

Not at all consoled and seeming to be shocked by the little-girl tone Hermione was using, Desdemona backed away and clutched her sketchbook.

Harry and crew shot back down the hallway as Madam Pomfrey opened the door to tell the students to GET A LIFE! Or at least share one! Bolting into the common room, they quickly remembered they had classes and dashed all crazy-like towards said classes. After dinner they gathered in the common room, which was actually redundant as they had all been there to witness the substitute and had no other information. STILL they called an assembly and discussed it.

"So when are we staying up to talk to Dobby?" yawned Ron, thinking of sleep.

"Friday," Hermione replied. "So we won't be tired for classes."

It wasn't long before the common room filled up and they were forked to abandon their oh-so-important meeting and go to sleep.

The morning of the match came and it looked to be rainy, but not all that bad. The Americans dragged themselves to the table and slopped down. Chase had a hood covering his face, but his actions proved he wasn't much better. Katie forced them all to eat breakfast with Ron's help and, as usual, Desdemona fled the hall after the owls arrived. Sara hadn't spoken a word to any of them and was just barely speaking to Ginny, who was her best girlfriend. After a few futile minutes of forcing themselves to eat, the Gryffindor Quidditch team stood up and headed for the changing room.

Sara became chatty soon after entering, though her comments were to Chase, Mike, Ginny, or Katie and she barely even looked at Ron or Harry. When they were changed, Katie gave a short speech about how awesome the match was going to be and that she hoped they all did well. Mike, Sara, and Chase stared out at the rain in gloomy acceptance as Chase swallowed what looked like the cure Fred and George had been using on their puke pills. Ron muttered something about betting all the money he'd made from the plants and that they'd better not loose, and with that they trudged onto the field.

Harry kept his eyes blandly focused on a discolored spot of grass on the field, instead of looking at the crowd. He remembered too many bad things and was desperate not to think until he was in the sky where problems seemed so far away. Katie shook hands with the Slytherin team captain, who tried to crush her hand, and Madam Hooch blew her whistle.

Harry kicked off the ground and into the air without a moments notice. He dreamt of flying into the heavens and staying there, but reality soon took hold of him and he stopped his climb to watch the game. His teammates were tinny magenta dots zipping around and Harry felt reluctant to move closer. A cold wind swept around him and he heard a susurration of "Sirius" as it whipped through his billowing cloak.

He looked down as he drifted over the Ravenclaw stands and saw two eyes staring up at him from the very top of the stands. Desdemona sat looking up with a dark blue umbrella slightly behind her creating a sort of halo around her head. Her sketchbook lay open on her knees and it seemed she'd cast a spell to keep water off of it. Harry couldn't help but smile at her because no matter how bad he felt it always seemed she was much more of a tragic figure, fragile in some way. She shook her head as if to tell him not to lie and then a smile twitched across her face and she pointed at Malfoy and Harry heard an unmistakable shout of,

"Go beat that prick, Potter!"

"Will do Embers!" Harry shouted back, glad to share such a strong hatred towards Malfoy.

Harry pulled back his broom and began circling the field with new intensity. He looked to his teammates and saw a battle was going on. Ron was at the center ring and his eyes were following the Quaffle, which was in Katie's possession, but she had a lot of Slytherins around her.

"It's Katie bell with the Quaffle," said Lee Jordan. "She's been made team captain this year and picked out this year's team after the trouble with that old hag from last year." Everyone took notice that McGonagall did not object.

Harry circled and tried to scan the field, though his mind kept drifting elsewhere and he found that he wasn't enjoying the game very much. The Gryffindor were dressed with magenta and gold striped cloaks and some even had American flags to wave, though as no one had seen the American's fly there had been a lot of booing as they entered the field. It looked like a giant Where's-Waldo game, which Lee soon mentioned as he followed Harry's gaze.

"Now for a little audience participation, who can find Waldo? Where is he? The winner gets a prize-"

"JORDAN, THE GAME!"

"Alright, alright, but I will find him. Katie passes it to Ginny Weasley, another Weasley on our find Quidditch team, where would we be without that magnificent family. Reminds me of the time Fred and I-"

"Jordan!" Minerva snapped.

"Right, Weasley passes it to Bell. Ouch, where'd that Bludger come from? Weasley swoops down and gets the Quaffle. She's heading for the goal post and- OH! That had to hurt!"

Harry looked down to see that Mike and Sara were being blocked by the Crabbe and Goyle and the Bludgers were being hit by the Chasers. He looked to Ginny and saw that she was hanging onto her broom by barely three fingers and screaming in terror. Katie was nearly thrown from her broom by Malfoy and helpless to aid Ginny at one of the Slytherin chasers aimed to ram. Ron rocketed forward to help, but was stopped by a chaser and let out a furious scream. Harry shot forward and Malfoy lunged in front of him. Harry battled to get past Malfoy as Katie pulled herself back onto her broom, but she was too late.

Ginny fell and was barely a foot from the ground when Chase reached her and pulled her onto his broom. He sped around the Slytherin chasers and preformed a grand loop which caused Malfoy and a chaser to crash into each other, all the while keeping one hand around Ginny's waist. He carted her to her broom and when she was on he nodded in a gentlemanly fashion and pulled away.

"Well after a common display of treachery from those immature Slyther-"

"Jordan," Minerva warned in a low hiss.

"Right. That was a nice save by… wow, get this, Chase Ferociter, thanks Ferociter! Ferociter regains the Quaffle. He's going for the-…. What? Weasley with the Quaffle! Don't ask me folks I got no idea how that happened. Weasley throws the Quaffle to Bell, Bell receives, tosses it back to Ferociter- Youch! That's gotta hurt. Another disgusting maneuver by an ape, sorry, by a Slytherin."

"JOR-DAN!"

"Sorry, professor, sorry."

Mike and Sara had had just about enough. Side-glancing each other they launched forward and broke free of the trap, being extra careful the shove the beaters out of the way as hard as possible. Goyle and Crabbe on their tails, they split up and Mike charged towards a bludger. Sara zipped across the field with a Goyle right behind her.

"Get off my ass you hemorrhoid!" she yelled at him, a bit too close to the Gryffindor stands.

Lee Jordan burst into laughter, Minerva gave up for the time being, and the Gryffindor fans began to sing, _get off her butt you hemorrhoid._ Butt, because there were teachers among them.

Sara proved her vixen standards and moved much like a fox avoiding a hunter as she weaved in and out of players. She circled the bludger so fast and so many times that Goyle got hit with it and sat in dazed confusion.

Mike raised his club like a sword and Sara followed suit. They charged forward and began a violent thrive to gain possession of the bludgers.

"Merry Christmas!" Sara yelled, whacking a bludger into her pursuing beater's gut.

"Aw, he didn't get you anything," snickered Mike. "And after we got him such a lovely GIFT!" he swung his club and nailed the same beater in the face.

Sara cackled as the bludger came in front of her and the Goyle whimpered in fear.

"Sassy," Jordan whistled. "I know, I know! Ferociter in control of the quaffle, passes it to Bell, she loops back and passes it to Weasley, Gryffindor approaching the goal…. It's in! SCORE! Potter, searching for that snitch. He's on his broom, Harry!" He added, pointing at Malfoy.

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry professor; couldn't help it," Lee grinned, moving away from Minerva as she dove towards him.

"Slytherin has the quaffle…. They're going for a goal… come on Ron! WOW! A bludger is hit through the hole and nails the chaser in the face, good one Widowstep! God, this chick is feisty- sorry professor! Ferociter with the Quaffle, passes it to Bell, to Weasley, they're forming a V. Bell, Weasley, Bell, Ferociter, Weasley, Bell, Ferociter, Bell, Weasley, Ferociter, Bell, Weasley, now it's anyone's guess! Potter! Whoah, who say that coming! Potter, from behind, hits the quaffle into the left ring."

"Potter, doing a victory dance over the head of Malfoy, Ferociter… is he?... can he?... he is! He's standing on his broom and surfing! Ferociter with the Quaffle, still standing he shoots around a bludger, over Malfoy and Potter, SCORE! Skelington and Widowstep seem to be… they are… they're playing tennis with the bludgers! Yowch, and the beaters! I love these Americans!"

"Jordan!"

"I know I know. Bell with the quaffle, Weasley, Oh, Slytherin in possession, they're going for a goal."

Harry watched his teammates and couldn't help but feel happy. The team looked good and the flying was amazing. The Slytherin chaser scored and Ron lost his edge. It seemed to come back after the third goal whizzed past him and Sara told him she'd be playing hackyspleen if he let the next one go by. He wasn't in the mood to find out what hackyspleen was. Chase surfed across the field and crouched to catch the quaffle at Ginny threw. Slytherin was in the lead as the rain picked up. Harry then saw a huge problem. The American's were already dealing with the change in temperature and the rain was tossing them around. He looked to Chase and saw that he was clinging to his broom and paler than Nick. Mike and Sara were struggling and their feature cracked into concentration and surprise.

Ron missed a goal and a Slytherin beater knocked Sara off her broom and she had to cling to it with her legs like Mike had done. She was trying to pull herself up but the wind and the rain was reeking havoc. She managed it and shot off before the bludger could reach her. The Americans were playing furiously and the Gryffindor team managed to score enough points to prevent Slytherin from whining. Harry saw the snitch and knew he had to go for it before he lost it in the rain. He dove early and Malfoy followed, Harry decided against pulling out of the dive and instead pushed the handle down and swung under. He grabbed the snitch and the match was over. Tie game.

The Gryffindor house partied like they'd won and celebrated with cheeseburgers. The Phantom was ranked just below the Firebold in admiration by the house and praised by all. Chase, however, gave up his broom and stared longingly at the cheeseburgers, having had nothing to eat except the white pills he'd been using to keep from vomiting. Lee, not understanding, offered him a cheeseburger. Chase lost the rest of his color and violently retched onto the floor. The red and white striped vomit of pills and blood splashed across the floor as poor Chase was finally defeated by the virus.

"I see…," said Lee, flicking his wand at the exaggeratingly huge mess. "So there's Waldo." He flicked the wand again and the Technicolor yawn disappeared to the laughter of the Gryffindor. Hermione approached Chase, who looked ready to die, with a kind smile and handed him a draught to help his stomach. Then, they all dined on cheeseburgers and deep-friend french-fries that made Sara start singing.

"I know you're happy, I know I know," said Minerva as she entered the common room around one in the morning. "However some of us are trying to sleep so clear up! Put the food away!"

"I'm sorry professor," Hermione apologized, her HeadGirl badge flashing importantly.

"Are you snarling at me?" Minerva asked Chase, who was guarding the rest of the cheeseburgers with his life and looked a lot like a rabid squirrel.

"Everyone to bed!" Hermione instructed, trying to turn Minerva's attention away from Chase, who was growling and clutching the plate of burgers as if his life depended on them. When Minerva turned around, Chase fled up the stairs holding the burgers over his head in triumph ad Mike and Sara cheered him on with loud woots and hollers! Harry held back as Minerva climbed back out the portrait hole. He set himself in a chair by the fireplace and waited. Hermione and Ron decided to leave him alone as the win hadn't perked him up as much as they'd hoped for.

"I love you," Hermione whispered into Ron's ear.

"I love you too, but I'm still not joining SPEW," said Ron, ducking into the dorm room.

The fire was long out and Harry had drifted to sleep by the time Dobby entered the common room and set about cleaning up. He let out an excited shriek at the sight of Harry, who woke up with a start.

"Harry Potter!" Dobby cried. "Many nights has Dobby dreamt of you! Hoping that he would see you again! Now Dobby's patience has paid of 'cus you are here, Harry Potter, sir, you are here!"

"Yeah… you sound like a gay stalker, anyway," Harry said quickly. "It's good to see you too, Dobby."

"At your service Harry Potter, sir." Dobby bowed so low that his nose tapped the floor and Harry decided to continue.

"That's a little worse. Anyway, I was actually hoping you could do me a favor."

"Anything, sir, anything!" Dobby nodded so hard that he resembled a bobble head.

Harry took the vial out of his cloak and handed it to Dobby. "I need yu to slip this into the DADA professor's drink."

Dobby looked curiously at the vial. "Harry Potter sir wishes to further delay classes?"

"No, I just..." Harry stopped. They hadn't had an actual Defense lesson since school began. There was always just a notice on the board and a TA filling in for the elusive Professor Draven. The TA simply said that Professor Draven was having trouble getting the proper forms to enable him to teach, and was living at the school and spent most of his time in the teacher's lounge making up the next day's lesson. "….Um, I just need you to put this into his drink."

"But Harry Potter sir, Professor Draven does not eat up with the rest of the teachers-"

"I know that but he must get his meals from the kitchen and that's when you can put this in his coffee."

"Harry Potter sir, Professor Draven does not ever eat from the kitchen. He has hired Winky and she tells Dobby that he drinks from a Goblet in his office and nowhere else."

Harry was reminded of Mad-eye and sighed with the new problem. There was no way that Winky would slip something into her master's drink and that was the only solution. He sat back in his chair and furrowed his brow in thought. Dobby spoke about how happy he was and how Dumbledore had given him a raise and all, but Harry barely listened. The next morning he awoke and traveled down to breakfast with Ron and Hermione. They had heard the news and walked into the banquet hall looking defeated. Ron perked up as he collected his winnings.

"You bet that we'd tie!" Harry growled.

"Sorry, mate, but it's a lot of galleons," replied Ron. "And Chase was sick but I didn't want to bet against us."

"Uh hu," yawned Harry. After breakfast they headed up to the Library. However, to their dismay, they met Professor Trelawney. She stopped them and as she looked to Harry her eyes rolled back in her skull and he as faced yet again with all her signs of a real premonition.

"A curse will arise upon the awakening! The first sentence uttered by the awakener will unleash a terrible, amusing, and even wonderful fate upon those in a room where it is uttered and the forth person to enter within ten minutes shall provide the show!" Trelawney hissed.

"Fan-fucking-tastic," said Harry, turning away and continuing his path to the library.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione entered the Library to see that the librarian wasn't there, neither was anyone else.

"Studying on a Sunday?" Dumbledore asked upon entering the room and looking at them all.

"Sure," sighed Harry, slumping down in a chair. Ron and Hermione stood uncomfortably, still having a great amount of respect for the Headmaster, and trying to uphold their headboy and girl stature.

"I admire the effort," smiled Albus, eyes sparkling. "I have good news for you, Harry. It seems Professor Draven has heard about your DADA class and has requested that you fill in for him as his TA needs to go home and visit a relative."

"…what does that mean?" Harry asked, completely confused.

Dumbledore smiled his sparkling smile of patience. "It means that instead of taking Defense Against the Dark Arts, you will be teaching it until Professor Draven is allowed."

At first Harry wanted to bring up the point that Dumbledore didn't trust him enough to lay off the guards but did trust him enough to teach a class, that argument, however, caught in his throat and to Ron and Hermione's surprise he simply said,

"…Alright…"

"Wonderful," Dumbledore beamed. "I suspect-"

The three teens began rather jumpy at the word 'I suspect' and immediately looked away from Albus, hiding guilt and holding their breaths.

"- he'll be wanting to meet with you and help make a lesson plan," continued Dumbledore, his words slowing down with growing suspicion. The three teens let out a sigh of relief.

"Okay," said Harry forcibly, his gaze fixed upon a spot behind Albus.

"Hey Ha-" Neville entered the library as if on cue and stopped mid-sentence. He held a just trained Tokerstashide in his left hand and had come to give it to Ron.

"Hello, Neville," Albus greeted with a warm smile.

"H-hello, Professor," Neville replied shakily.

"Is that one of those marvelous plants you two have been selling?" Dumbledore asked politely.

"This?" Neville questioned dimly. "Well, uh, it, it, um,-"

"Yes," Ron filled in, being the better salesman.

Albus smiled proudly at Neville and said, "Perfect. I've been meaning to purchase one, how much are they?"

"Y-you want one?" Neville asked dumbly, his mouth dropping open.

"As Harry can tell you, I've got quite a lot of things in my office that need a safe storage place, and it's such a lovely plant," replied Albus, his eyes sparkling innocently.

Ron filled in for Neville's silence and began haggling the price, no embarrassment what-so-ever in his tone. Neville moved closer to Harry and Hermione. They began an overly stupid conversation staring with,

"So, nice weather."

And even dared the path of,

"How are your classes going?"

Ron finished up negotiations and handed the plant over to Dumbledore in a wave of victory. Albus admired his new plant and Harry began to wonder if all that Cannabis was the reason Albus was the way he was. It would explain a lot. Shaking his head, Harry and crew headed for the exit, leaving the Headmaster to brows the restricted section and get the books he'd come to get.

"So now what?" Neville asked in a low whisper.

"Now I go talk to Professor Vector," Harry grinned, making his comrades understand why he'd agreed to teach the class. Though it was obvious to them that the particularly dangerous professor had been given an excuse to need to get Harry alone and it seemed the Headmaster had just seat up young Harry Potter's murder.

Had they bothered to turn around their eyes would have been violated by the scene of Albus Dumbledore, twirling his cloak over his head and unbuttoning his tunic provocatively, doing a dance to a pulsating beat which no one could explain the source of. Albus shimmied onto a table and proceeded to disrobe, hurling clothing articled about the room. A few minutes later he found himself arguing with the Tokerstashide, who had shrunken his underwear in protest to the scene and was covering what must have been its eyes with its leaves.


	4. Heelow!

Okay, due to lack of reviewers. I'm changing the name to Harry Potter and the Cocaine Llama. I have so many cocaine references anyway I might as well. Surely you've found the true purpose of the Toker's-stash-hide plants? Which grow on any soul that **cannabis **is sprinkled upon. Can't win if no one reviews. That and why am I breaking my fingers to get out 21 pages if no one will even comment on them. Come on guys, a simple, cool, will suffice! Hello Richard! Blame him for the title he said it was funny.

To find my rival's story just look in my favorites. It is called At All Costs. Read MechaPanda's story so you can compare the two. Hers is funny!

-

Chapter Four

Harry Potter sat down for breakfast and his eyes flashed up to the staff table.

He had spent the entire night dreaming glorious dreams about the look that would appear on the potion master's face upon hearing that it was Harry who had been offered the task of subbing for the Dark Arts professor, instead of him. The Slytherin team was in a horrid mood and sat brooding at their table. They'd heard all they could stand to listen to on the subject of the Americans and any foreign student was fare game to a hex in their book. As the owls arrived Harry forced his eyes away from Severus and onto Hermione as she received her paper and began to read it cover-to-cover.

Neville let out a whimper upon receiving a letter from his Grandmother, who saw his weak potion's grade. Ron opened a box two owls had carried for him and let out a giggle that med Harry grin and Hermione call him cute.

"Shut up," Ron ordered them both. He took out a pot from the box, smiled, and handed it to Neville.

Ginny let out a squeal as a trio of owls set an oblong package in front of her before landing next to Sara and giving her a letter. She petted the owls lovingly and forfeited her porridge to them. Ginny looked to her with wide, shocked eyes.

"Open it," Sara prompted, nodding encouragingly.

Ginny took a deep breath and began ripping, tearing, shredding the paper off the box before mauling said box out of existence. She let out a delighted scream which caused a few heads to turn, before leaping forward and embracing Sara in a tight hug.

"Thank you!"

Sara laughed as Ginny grabbed the box and began dragging her out towards the Quidditch field. Chase, who was barely awake, stood up to follow them and was joined by Ron, Mike, and Katie. Harry was still waiting to see what Snape did when he found out the good news. Desdemona sprung up from her seat clutching something and ran for the exit. Today, however, the brooding Slytherin by the name of Malfoy, had other plans. He rammed his foot out into her path and she took did a floor face-plant. The red envelope escaped her groping fingers and sailed out of reach on its course for freedom.

Desdemona was on her hands and knees in the blink of an eye, but Malfoy knew a Howler when he saw one and leapt onto her, holding her back. All eyes watched the envelope bounce on its corner and proceed to pogo stick its way down the isle in annoyingly slow motion. Desdemona sucked in a gasp and held it as if her chest was the envelope and she could somehow force it to stay close.

However, hardly ever are things in life fair and the envelope exploded open in a cloud of haunting, billowing smoke. A shrill voice shrieked from the smoke in a rage of fury.

"MORE BAD MARKS!" The voice roared. "YOU PIECE OF FILTH! AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOU! YOU ARE THE DISGRACE OF THIS HOUSEHOLD AND AN EMBARASMENT TO ME! MARK MY WORDS YOU FILTH, SCUM, TRAITER OF THE VERY BLOOD IN YOUR VEINS, IF YOU CONTINUE TO RECEIVE GRADES LIKE THESE THEN DON'T BOTHER COMING HOME! YOU WON'T BE WELCOMED! DO I MAKE MYSELF CLEAR!"

In a cloud of poisonous green and black, the envelope burst into flames, which flashed a skull before disappearing. The entire hall was so quiet that the only sound was when a cricket chirped, and another cricket his it for making noise. Then, in a sickening wave of thick, inescapable mockery, the Slytherin erupted with laughter. Desdemona fought to get free, but Malfoy held her tight, not yet done with the torture.

The only relief to the poor girl was that not one other table laughed. In fact, even the Hufflepuff looked ready to attack Malfoy. It was sick what he had done. Before Harry even knew he'd moved, he found himself standing inches from Malfoy and within a second he's shoved the blond off Desdemona with enough force to slam the ferret into the Slytherin table. Desdemona shot to her feet and took off, with Neville yanking open the door for her to escape by.

"Detention, Potter," hissed Snape, suddenly a few feet from Harry.

"What!" Neville yelled.

"You're next, Longbottom," Snape warned.

Harry was too angry to speak, which was a good thing as he had a speech ready what would have shocked truckers and sailors and even construction workers. Neville yanked him out of the Great Hall and Ron and Hermione soon followed. There, of course, would be no punishment for the ferret. Instead the gang proceeded to whisper and murmur about that they'd like to do to him if they could just get him alone for five minutes.

"Y'know," said Ron. "We could trick him into going into the room or requirements and then lock him up and charge people two galleons for five minutes with a baseball bat."

"Only if we get to watch," Neville muttered.

The day was uneventful except when Tonks knocked over the cage of weasels they were supposed to be changing into fur boas and, from what Harry heard, one had skittered up Malfoy's pants and he'd let out quite a nasty wail. Hermione had heard that he was pressing charges for being violated.

"Weasel probably knew a ferret when he saw one," sneered Ron when they passed the infirmary where Malfoy was staying and refusing to let anyone near him.

"Shut up, Weasely!" snapped Malfoy.

"Ewww!" shrieked Hermione. "You don't want to get in his pants, do you?"

The four teens, Harry, Ron, Neville, and Hermione, erupted into a loud guffaw and began squeaking like horny weasels to the amusement of themselves.

"GET LOST!" roared Malfoy/

"Oh!" gasped Ron. "Let's go guys, I think we're turning him on."

Again a round of giggles emerged and they skipped off to their classes with oddly bright smiles that no one questioned. Most of the school had more spring to their steps and almost everyone was two seconds away from bursting into song and dance, but for safety reason this story isn't a musicale so there will be none of that… Anyway, it was a good day that was made better when Harry was pulled out of his Potions class and the student doing so announced loudly that Professor Vector wanted to help plan Harry's DADA class. Harry knew he couldn't look at Snape and his heart made a sound like that of someone stepping on a pool toy during its deflation. However a wide grin spread across his face as Ron took out Luna's camera and clicked. Ron gave the camera to his Tokerstashide and all the Gryffindor began passing him noted about buying copies of the photo.

Harry traveled down the hall and the girl who'd pulled him out of class began to speak.

"Sorry about that," she said. "Just thought it'd brighten Neville's day."

"I'm sure it did," nodded Harry. "And everyone else's."

The girl smiled. "I wish I had gotten that-"

"On camera?" Harry grinned. "Ron will probably be selling copies later."

"Excellent," the girl laughed. "Tell him to put me down for five. I'm Rosemary Sunrays, by the way. In the Hufflepuff house."

"Ha-" Harry stopped, feeling that replying was a bit pointless.

Rosemary giggled and opened a door to a spiraling staircase that had no end in sight. They began to climb, having a nice conversation at first which quickly turned into faded silence with loud panting. Harry tried hard not to count the stairs and even as his legs began to shake he refused to look down. Rosemary was clinging to the railing and seemed about three seconds away from dropping to the floor when the stairs in front of them disappeared and were replaced with a gothic cathedral door. Rosemary flung herself at the door and knocked with resounding effort. The doorknob turned slowly and Harry heard a very human sounding CREEEEAAAAKK as the door opened.

"Pay no mind," said Rosemary. "Got a sense of humor, this one."

"One has to have some joy in life," came a startling voice. Harry could have described the voice as dark and evil, yet it held a smoothness and beauty he could not even dream of explaining. When Professor Draven spoke, his tone was soft and almost like a whisper, yet it easy to hear.

Rosemary smiled and moved aside to let Harry in. He wasn't exactly grateful as his feet didn't seem ready to move. Somehow he managed to blunder into the room with as much grace as a giraffe on ice, but his mind kept yelling at him that this person wasn't allowed to teach for a reason. Rosemary smiled and walked forward.

"I should get back, but I just wanted to say hello to Mortimer, is he-"

"Heelow!" came a squeak from above Harry. It was almost cute to hear and sounded like something a cartoon animal would do.

"Hello," Rosemary replied, laughing.

"Heelow!" came the reply.

"Yes, you've said that," said Professor Draven from the darkness.

"Bye, Professor," smiled Rosemary, brushing past Harry and out the door. Harry watched the thin line of corn yellow disappear as Rosemary shut the door behind her. When the door closed with a thud, Professor Draven flicked his wand and the candles lit up. Harry found himself in a classroom that was faintly visible in the candle light. The professor leaned forward, his fingers linked together, and said.

"Harry Potter." Professor Draven's face was shadowed by darkness and gave him a very skeleton look. Harry, the truth serum heavy in his pocket, strode purposely forward.

"You wanted to talk to me?" asked Harry.

"Yes, I'm having a bit of trouble getting full permission to teach," explained Professor Draven. "The ministry is being cautious for once, and I need someone to help. Now, all I need is for you to be available for questions students might have, but I'm afraid everyone is getting horridly bored with reading the book. So, I was hoping you could teach them a few shields."

"Shields?" questioned Harry. He'd never hear about shields before.

"Yes," replied Draven, nodding his head and sending the shadows cascading across his face. "With all that seems to happen to you each year and now that the dark times seem to be returning, I think it best everyone learns a few shields."

Harry was caught off guard by this. He'd expected Professor Draven to act suspicious, not admit that Voldemort was a threat. Still, Harry knew better than to drop his guard and asked, "What type of shields, professor."

"Mr. Potter, since you'll be teaching a class you may address me as Professor, or Erick, if you like," said Professor Draven. "The shields raise your defense against attacks. They all look different, but they're very helpful in duels. I'm sure the class will enjoy learning them, but you know them better."

Harry was a bit surprised, but nodded anyway as he tried to find an excuse to look around for a goblet or anything he could pour the potion into and then suggest they have some tea. Eric walked into the light to reveal a shockingly handsome man. Harry, of course, only noticed the attractiveness in a perfectly natural and manly way! Eric Draven was a tall man of about 6'1 and his eyes were evocative as they seemed to change color as he moved his head, though the base color was silver. He was clean shaven and dressed in gothic robes and a cape with a red lining that fell over his shoulders. His hair was raven black, wavy and fell to his jaw line. Harry of course, noticed this all simply as an observation.

The sound of a squeaky "Heelow!" made Harry jump and remember that here was another… thing… in the room.

"Yes, yes, Mortimer," Eric nodded impatiently. "Hello, hello. Go on Harry, say hello."

Staring up at the ceiling, as that was the direction Eric was looking in. Harry gave a feeble wave and said, "Errr, hi… hello."

"Heelow!" cane a joyous reply.

"You already said that!" Eric snapped, his growling mouth making Harry's face freeze in a twisted expression of shock and absolute horror. He jumped back and rammed painfully into a desk in his haphazard attempt to get away. Eric ignored this as he continued to address the ceiling.

"No, get down here and we can go find Severus."

"Heelow!"

"Mortimer," groaned Eric, turning to Harry and jumping back to copy the look and expression in his face.

"Y-y-you-you-you-you're-you're a-a-a v-vampire!" Harry sputtered out, receiving a loud Heelow from the ceiling.

"Y-y-you-you-you-you're-you're absolutely right," Eric dropped his look of horror in an instant and studied Harry as if waiting to see his reaction. "I'm also gay. Have a problem?"

Harry remained in his frozen stature, and his mind regurgitated the completely male and idiotic reaction of. "You're gay?"

"Course!" Eric replied. "Most vampires are, don't you read? Why else would most vampires choose another male to turn, which as an intimate process by the way. They're all bi, I just happen so swing more towards one side."

The next thought to reach Harry's brain was one he found amusing, even in his slight terror. "And you wanted to go find Snape?"

Eric laughed and nodded with a grin. "Now, seriously he's not my type, but I do LOVE to make him squirm."

Harry relaxed the tiniest of bits and Eric sat upon his desk, expecting more questions.

"I'm not allowed to teach yet as they fear I'll get hungry during class and- ooh, how convenient, lots of little people around to snack on," he rolled his eyes dramatically. "Until they receive the third record from Brazil, telling them I can teach, I have to wait."

"You taught in Brazil?" Harry asked.

"Course, that's where I found Mortimer," Eric nodded. "Long story, but his mother was killed when he was a baby and I found him in a drawer of a desk belonging to C. J. Mortimer. Apparently a few of the students though it'd be funny to put him in there. So I took him, I was the first thing he saw upon being able to open his eyes and yadda yadda yadda, here he is. Satirically, and laugh if you will, he is a fruit bat. It's ironical, but I'm a walking cliché so..."

Harry was too astounded to be amused at the moment, but be was beginning to understand why professor Bins hated Eric so much. "…Well, it's good you're not teaching, isn't it? I mean, what with all the attacks."

"Don't remind me. There's no way in hell I'm going near the coffee and I suggest you stray away from it as well."

"Coffee?" Harry asked.

"Yes, I heard a few American's talking about it," Eric clarified. "They said, and I quote, all the 'attacks' happened after the professors drank coffee and it might have been tampered with. I can't imagine who'd do that as only the house elves are allowed to deliver it and Winky, a lovely little house elf once she stops crying, tells me there has not been anything unusual going on in the kitchen and they're ordering the coffee from the same place. Then I though, well then it's someone at the company, but what would they have to gain?"

"Well, what if they're working for someone here?" Harry proposed, figuring that the homosexual Vampire would definitely not be hired without a thorough background check.

"I thought about that, but the only ones to benefit from the illnesses would be the substitutes, but from the way I hear Lee is welcoming them, it isn't much of a gain."

"He-e-e-e-e-e-e-elow!"

"Ignore him, he thrives for attention," grumbled Eric, rising to his feet. "So, Professor, shall we arrange a time for you to come and learn shields?"

"It's not him," Harry stated as he approached the lunch table. Hermione and Ron sprang apart in an instant and made a few people smile tauntingly.

"How, err, how do you know, Harry?" Ron asked, rubbing the back of his neck nervously. "Use the

"

"Shhh!" Ginny, Neville, Hermione, and Harry snapped.

"No, but… trust me, it's not him," whispered Harry.

"…What?" Hermione demanded. "It's got to be, it always is!"

"Maybe we missed a step; let's go blame Snape for a while and re-question Eric," Harry grumbled, rolling his eyes.

"But now what?"

Their attention was drawn away from the conversation as a seventh year Hufflepuff girl suddenly jumped up onto the table. She swung her hips and threw her hat off her head like a Frisbee. Everyone watched in shock as she unbuttoned her cloak, shimmied out of it and began swinging it above her head. The Slytherin bunch were the first to reply. The males whistled and made cat calls while the females, well some of them were joining the boys, but most began glaring at her or hitting their boyfriends.

The girl flung the cloak and it landed upon a timid first year whose eyes were the size of dinner plates by this time. Providing her own music, ( "Wakachuka wakachuka, BUHnanananana na na! Buhnanananana na na") the girl danced and gripped her shirt, pulling it slowly over her head. She swung the shirt and let it fly before rubbing her hands down her neck and towards her bra. It was at this point that a professor dove onto the table, seized her around the waist, and charted her off out of the great hall for a lecture; much to the disappointment of the guys.

"…Right," said Hermione. "So what's our next course of action?"

"…Bye," said Harry.

"Gotta go," said Ron.

"Uh, see you," said Neville.

"Got, errr, things to do," said Lee.

All around the hall, guys were excusing themselves and rushing away. Most of the first and third years stayed, but every one else was gone. The girls were left to roll their eyes, and Dumbledore tried to get every one's attention and tell them that the girl might have been jinxed into doing that and he wanted to know who did it. No one was sure why he said "who keeps doing that!" as that was the first time they'd seen it happen. With in an hour, no one seemed to care about the incident, which was odd as it had been a boring week. The girl handled it well though and could be seen giving autographs in the hallways. People seemed to think she'd been trying to annoy the teachers.

The showers had, surprisingly, been drained of all cold water and 'no one' seemed to know why. Hermione was a wreck. She was constantly muttering things under her breath and kept telling them that they'd missed something. Harry offered the coffee scenario to her and she leapt on it like a cat on a mouse.

"The coffee, of course!" she proclaimed.

"Hold up!" Sarah snapped, snapping her compact shut. "You're JUST thinking of the coffee!" she let out a groan and looked to Mike and Chase. "Obviously we can't count on them for the next clue." To which Mike and Chase agreed.

"What do you mean?" Hermione asked slowly, trying to keep a level tempo.

"I thought it was the coffee so we went to the same store that delivers to Hogwarts and ordered the same brew," Sara explained. "We said it was for the Headmaster as he'd been a bit hesitant about going to the teacher's lounge. Nothing happened to us."

"Well what else could it be?" Ron asked.

"Sorry," Sarah shook her head. "We offered to team up and you said no, worded differently."

"Well, we've reached a dead end," sighed Ron, flopping back into a chair and nearly landing on Hermione's pussy. Crookshanks let out a hiss and stalked off to go find a nice juicy rat.

"Ron!" Hermione snapped.

"What? It's true."

"Maybe we SHOULD go back to blaming Snape," mumbled Harry, waiting for the git to show up.

"Yeah I mean; step one is to find a problem, did that. Step two is to blame Snape. Step three is annoy Hagrid, did that. Step four changes-"

"Ron, be logical," ordered Hermione. "There has to be an answer, we just haven't thought of it."

"Well, duh," drawled Mike, turning his chair around in a villainy movement.

They sat in silence as the fire crackled and the librarian stuck her nose around the corner to glare at them for talking in the presence of her precious books.

"Well," sighed Harry. "Now wha-"

"On shit!" Mike jumped up from his chair. "Potions, and we're going to be late!"

Pretending not to care if Snape reamed them, Harry, Ron, and Hermione shot out of the library at top speed and began making a mad dash towards the dungeon. The Americans followed slower, simply jogging as they didn't care as much. In a bizarre twist, the American's arrived before Harry and crew and they were late because they were busy trying to figure out how that had happened. Yet when they entered the class they found that Snape was not there.

"Joy, maybe there's been another attack," grinned Mike, seconds away from dancing. "Maybe he's gone!"

"Or maybe he's standing behind you," Snape hissed in his coldest voice usually reserved only for Harry.

"Crap," Mike cursed loudly and turned around. "Sorry abou-"

"Take your seats," Snape interrupted walking past Mike and watching as Harry and crew engaged in their usual habit of avoiding eye contact. The lesson went on in its usual way, only this time both Harry and Mike found their potions turned out horribly.

'Fillet of a fenny snake, in the cauldron boil and bake," sang Sara, looking quite wicked. Eye of newt and toe of frog. Wool of bat and tongue of dog. Adder's fork and blind worm's sting. Lizard's leg and owlet's wing. For a charm of powerful trouble, like a hell- broth boil and bubble."

"Nice potion work," admitted Snape, acknowledging Sara's best subject. "But must you sing?"

"Sadly, yes," Sara replied. "I'm not a potion's master as you, sir," she added. Having learned that casual sucking-up would make him leave her alone. "…Where was I?" She asked Chase.

"Double, double," yawned Chase, who wasn't allowed to help.

"Right!" Cheered Sara, greatly annoying Draco. "Double, double, toil and trouble, fire burn and cauldron bubble. Scale of dragon, tooth of wolf. Witch's mummy, may and gulf of the ravined salt-sea shark. Root of Hemlock, digged in'th dark. Liver of blaspheming Jew. Gail of goat and slips of yew slivered in the moon's eclipse. Nose of Turk and Tartar's lips. Finger of birth strangled babe. Ditch delivered by a drag. Make the gruel thick and slab! Add thereto a tiger's cauldron, for the ingredients of our cauldron."

"Stop it," Mike advised, looking over his now green potion as Neville, his partner, had a nervous breakdown.

"Cool it with a baboon's blood, now the charm is firm and good," Sara finished, looking evilly around her. Mike sighed and pointed at her potion.

"Fare thee well, I commend your pains and everyone shall shall in'th gain. Now round about the cauldron sing, like elves and fairies in a ring. Enchanting all that you put in."

Sara cackled and, to the Gryffindor amusement," Malfoy was to angry his potion had turned a sickening grey color.

"By the pricking of my thumb, something wicked this way comes!" Sara announced. At that moment there was a nock on the door that made everyone, including Snape, jump out of their skin and have to arrange a search party as there was a lot of skin laying around and no one wanted to end up in a frog. They all looked to Sara, who pointed at the door and without skipping a beat commanded.

"Open locks, whoever knocks!"

The door opened with an alarming Creeeeeeeak and professor Draven poked his head into the room. (Not that head, MechaPanda…)

"Sorry, Severus," he apologized and then turned his gaze upon Harry. "Professor, may I speak to you?"

Snape began walking forward, but Eric simply gestured for Harry to come. Harry, who really didn't need to piss Snape off anymore, twitched and started towards the door.

"Excuse me," Snape hissed, pushing Harry back.

Harry, knowing he was screwed, cast help-me look to Eric. Professor Draven smiled and walked towards Snape in mock delight.

"Sorry, did you want to discuss something with me, Severus," he asked softly. "We could discuss it in your office," he added.

Looking quite sour, Snape took a few steps back, away from Eric. Professor Draven, looking put out, grabbed Harry by the arm and began hauling him out of the room.

"Maybe later then?" Eric asked hopefully.

Snape began changing colors and the students engaged in a mental game of matching the colors to the various potions they'd made that year. "Perhaps," he growled out.

Eric's face erupted back into a smile and he gave a wink before shutting the door and hurrying down the hall with Harry in tow. They reached ground level and Eric burst into a fit of laughter.

"You'd think I'd been trying to rape him then and there," he giggled.

"That was an act?" questioned Harry.

Eric's laughter stopped, but he continued to grin. "Yep."

"Marvelous," grinned Harry. "Though, you know he's going to kill me, right?"

Eric waved his hand, dismissing the comment. "No, he's not going to do anything because when he does I'm going to tell him I think he's jealous and that I'd never touch a student. Then I'll add that I find it enchanting that he wished to teach beside me. Then, if all else fails, I'm going to ask if he's resisting my advantages while sabotaging your classes because he has a thing for you and I'm intruding, or if he's just being a tease."

Harry was slightly alarmed by this plan as it did not provide any good images and made his already loose skin crawl. He barely wanted to imagine Snape, he definitely didn't want to imagine Snape as a tease, or attracted to him.

"Anyway, I'd like to attend your DA meeting tonight," declared Eric.

"How'd you know we were still doing that?" Harry asked.

"Well, I know you've downsized the group as some people are rather put-off, however, I notice there are still a few members sneaking off to that room," explained Eric, his tone stating that he found the question to be trivial. "Anyway, I just thought I'd show the group shields and give you a chance to practice them without adding something more to your schedule."

"Err, well, I guess so," shrugged Harry.

"I won't take over," promised Eric. "I'll even come early if you wish and teach you the spells so I can merely supervise during the meetings."

"Actually that'll be good," said Harry. "We've needed a teacher sponsor."

"Perfect, though I'll include that only those proven worthy may attend, so you can keep your current members without threat of Slytherin students."

"Um, you do realize that the meetings are to train the average person to have a fighting chance against Voldemort?"

Harry noticed a flash in Eric's eyes upon the mentioning that name; a spark of pure hatred. One he'd only before seen in Albus Dumbledore's eyes. "Yes," Eric nodded. "If anyone has the right to raise a resistance, Harry, it is you."

"Heelow!" Mortimer chimed, flapping around the room. Harry noticed he wasn't very good at flying as he cartwheeled through the air in silly poses.

"Hello, Mortimer," grinned Harry, for the third time.

"Don't encourage him," muttered Eric, his shield shinning a brilliant rainbow.

Harry simply laughed. He'd found that Mortimer was actually an extremely cute little bat and seemed to think he was a human child. He went everywhere with Eric and the only thing he sad was Heelow, though Harry knew he could activate a shield as he was constantly flying into things, only to have a green orb flash around him and allow his to remain unharmed. After an hour, Harry found that the bat was better at making shields than he was.

"Like this, Harry, watch," instructed Eric. He let his wrist go lax and began string the wand around and moving his arm upward. "Ara contego!" Then, with a sharp flick of his wrist, the want emitted a bright light that formed into a shield.

"Remember, like a patronus, this shield is a form of protector. You have to have a strong frame of mind and powerful voice to command it to you."

"Heelow!"

"… I'm not sure where his strong mind is all the times, but trust me," he added.

"Ara contego!" Harry cast, watching a small circle of a shield.

"Good," said Eric, to Harry's surprise.

"What?" Harry questioned, looking at his pathetic shield.

"Hold still," Eric cast his shield and stood in front of Harry, wand raised. "Incommendatus!" he yelled.

The room erupted in a loud wail as Eric was blasted away and they both reveled at the sight of a shinning silver stay, hear lowered to ram and hoof digging in readiness. Within minutes the image faded and Eric stood up.

"Guardian angel," he laughed.

"Heelow!" cried Mortimer, swooping down to land on Eric's shoulder.

"What was that?" questioned Harry, excitement flowing through him.

"You feel happy?" Eric asked, grinning.

"… yeah, I guess so," said Harry, not understanding the question.

"I cast a spell which challenged the fact that you had a protector. Your shield is a link to what I call a guardian angel, which is a spirit watching over you. Yours takes the same form as your patronus and it stands ready to defend you," stated Eric.

"… so?"

"So, someone's trying to watch over you, Harry," smiled Eric. "Brilliant soul too," he added. "If someone fires that that shield now, thinking it's too small, they'll have to face a stag."

Harry was quiet. He knew what his patronus was and this new revelation brought a lot of comfort. He would have loved to see a big black dog though. Then again, there it was. The thought that tormented him from the moment he'd said he'd give anything to have Sirius back. He never said to have James, or Lily, it was always Sirius. Yet his father watched over him now, just as he'd died trying to do. Eric was also quiet, allowing Harry some much needed time to think. Even Mortimer was silent in respect.

The silence passed as Harry fought back into the real world.

"But for the demonstration… I want a bigger shield," he announced, looking at his puny excuse for a shield.

-

"Yours is bigger than mine!" roared Ron in outrage.

"Come off it!" ordered Harry.

"Boys, boys, it's not the size that… yeah it's the size…""

"Eric!"

"It's bigger and harder!"

"Yeah, it's straighter too, so what?"

"That's not fair!"

"You can make yours harder, just ask Hermione to help you," Harry advised.

"Boy did I walk in during the wrong part of this conversation," smiled Sara, opening the door.

Hermione, Ron, Harry and the other members stared at her in confusion, all except Eric who had been expecting it. He grinned and watched as one by one everybody seemed to realize what she'd heard and erupted into fits of laughter, leaving Ron to pale as his eyes grew wider and wider.

"Sorry I'm late, but Flitch is snooping around," explained Sara, taking her place among Mike and Chase.

"Right," said Harry, trying very hard not to smile as Ron turned an even brighter shade of red than his hair. "Well, let's give it half an hour more and then call it quits. Everyone ready?... right, ara contego!"

"Heelow!"

"What is that?" demanded Ron, as this was the twelfth time he'd heard that sound.

Mortimer was inside a pocket in Eric's cloak as the young bat had fallen asleep soon before the first person arrived. Harry was constantly keeping the girls on task as they seemed to want nothing more than to watch Eric. They'd flutter their eyelashes and sigh longingly and he'd simply grin and point at Harry and they'd slowly turn their gazed to Harry only to loose interest in a few minutes. Harry noticed that Chase also had a hard time focusing and Mike kept jeering and elbowing him in the ribs.

"What's going on?" Harry asked him once everyone was back on task.

"Nothing," replied Chase rather quickly as his face turned red.

"Shouldn't you be asking all the girls?" Mike proposed.

"I apologize, professor," said Eric. "Part of a vampire's survival is being attractive and being able to seduce anyone… my charm is a tad strong and it can prove distracting at first.

"That explains the girls," nodded Harry, snapping his fingers at Hermione and watching as she quickly busied herself with her shield again. "But why-"

"Professor," Eric whispered warningly.

Harry caught on and looked at Chase, who was focusing so hard on his spell that his hand was shaking. Mike and Sara kept their eyes on Harry, daring him to comment.

"I thought all you American's were fighting against that sort of thing," he said.

"We're not ALL rednecks ya know," Sara snapped.

"Some of us want equal treatment for everyone, yet eat meat as I've never heard of wild cows, I support war because I think terrorists suck, lets see, ah, some of us are not Democrat or Republican because no matter who is president there will be things that suck! I plan to graduate, I work hard for my money, and my family has never owned a slave," Mike ranted. "We walk around and have to listen to the damn Slytherin call us yanks, now you're stereotyping?"

"Ah, but sometimes being a cliché makes you an individual," smiled Eric. "Two kinds of stereotypical Americans are the hippies and the red-necks. Sure you could be a combination and make an acceptable human being, but with everyone thriving to be an individual, being a cliché is more original."

"I… guess," said Sara. "But the American stereotype sucks."

"I didn't tell you to be a stereotype, I told you to be a cliché," shrugged Eric, moving on to watch another group before anyone could question him. Though the teenagers assumed he'd gone mad, the wise professors plan had worked as they'd forgotten what they were arguing about.

"…Anyway," said Sara. "I was talking to Firenze, and he told me about this llama in the woods, but said we'd have to know more about the woods to find him, so I think that mission if best left to you as long as you promise to tell us what you learn."

"What llama?"

"I dunno, said his name was Donny and he was very wise," Sara shrugged, elbowing Mike, who was dueling with Chase and loosing horribly. "I'll give you the map if you promise to share the info."

"Agreed," Harry promised. After the club he received a map drawn upon a pink scroll of parchment with sparkly hearts on it. Sara made him swear upon his broom that he wouldn't go against the deal and eventually released the parchment and headed to the dorm.

"Well done, Professor," Eric grinned, looking about the room. "They've picked up the concept quite well for such a young group."

"Classes are different when you volunteer for them," Harry explained modestly.

Eric raised an eyebrow. "Sure, has nothing to do with idolizing the instructor. Goodnight," and in a puff of smoke he was gone, leaving behind an echoing "Heelow!"

As Ron and Hermione had left to go 'find something important Ron dropped earlier' Harry was left alone to straighten up the room. When he left it was late and he was forced to hurry through the halls, haven given his cloak to Ron and Hermione. For a secret reason he was out late almost every night, but tonight was harder without the cloak. He dashed through the halls and saw Desdemona.

"Hey," he greeted.

She looked over at him and hurried forward. "Shhh," she whispered. "Flitch is just down the corridor."

"What? How do you know?" Harry asked, alarmed.

"My grandmother is one of his closest friends and as punishment for low grades I'm helping him watch the halls."

"Oh," moaned Harry.

"Hurry!" she urged, pointing down the hall. "Go."

"What?"

"Go, before he hears you!" replied Desdemona.

"Thanks," whispered Harry, smiling.

"I owe you and Neville for helping."

"That was nothing-"

"Go!"

Harry nodded and rushed past her. He made great pains to deaden the sound of his footsteps and leapt around the corner in time to hear Flitch march down the hall.

"I heard something, who was it?" Flitch ordered of Desdemona.

"N-no one sir," Desdemona replied. "J-just talking to myself."

"Rotten little… children like you end up in prison, do you know that? Putting your grandmother through so much shame. She did not ask me to knock some sense into you just so you could start talking to yourself!"

"N-no, sir," replied Desdemona. "Sorry sir."

"…Are you sure you didn't see anyone?"

"No, sir, no one."

"…keep patrolling then, the prefects are slacking off ever since Percy left!"

"Yes, sir."

Flitch left, muttering about destroying small children, and Desdemona was gone before Harry could peak around the corner to thank her. He headed up to the dorm and slept an exhausted sleep. Tomorrow would prove to be a busy day.


	5. Donny Llama

Chapter Five. The Donny Llama.

Harry Potter awoke to the sound of Neville getting dressed rather clumsily. He pulled back his curtain to see the boy hopping on one foot while trying to pull on a shoe and yank on a shirt at the same time. Seamus threw back the curtain only enough to expose his head, and glared at Neville.

"Some of us are trying to sleep," he snapped angrily.

"Aughh!" Dean moaned groggily; looking at his watch as he yanked open his curtain. "It's not even five thirty!"

"What time is it?"

"Five twenty-two," Dean replied softly in a yawn, only able to open one eye.

"Whose voice was that?" Harry asked suspiciously, staring at Seamus, whose lips had not moved.

"Mind your own business, Potter," Seamus replied, his Irish accent thick with annoyance. "Everybody just go back to sleep."

Dean moaned and flopped back into his bed as Neville won the battle with his shirt and began tying his shoe. Ron, who grew up in a house of people and knew to ignore certain sounds, slept on, mumbling something like 'Mum! We just won the World Series; must you hug me in front or everyone!' Harry, who was being stared at by Seamus, drew his curtain shut, but stayed awake while Neville tottered out the door as silently as he could. Within half an hour, there came movement from Seamus's bed.

"Well, for the most part you were quiet," he was whispering.

Soft, hushed laughter sounded followed by a whisper of, "Sorry about that."

Harry did not dare move, though his curiosity was flaring and the absence of snoring told him that Ron knew when to wake up. The door opened and they knew it was now or never. Harry shifted one of his curtains to give him just enough room to see the door. There was a girl standing in the doorway next to Seamus, who was only dressed in his Alan Whickers. The girl leaned forward and kissed Seamus passionately on the lips. He leaned into it, bringing his arms up around her.

Harry wondered if this would just lead into them both getting right back into bed. The girl, however, pushed away and was gone in mere seconds; leaving Seamus to sigh, grab his robe, and head toward the showers in desperate need of a cold one. Ron, Harry, and Dean let out choked laughter and yanked back their own curtains.

"Blinking heck!" Ron yelled, laughing hard.

"Chaps, I think we've had a visit from the beast-with-two-backs," Dean announced, his face red with suppressed laughter.

"He boned in the room and no body heard a thing from either of them!" gaped Ron. "Blimey, that's… that's…"

"Disturbing?" Harry filled in. "She must have been the one to ask what time it was."

"….Someone gets bonked in this room and nobody even heard," said Dean, shaking his head. "Are we deaf?"

"Maybe nothing happened," Harry suggested. "I mean, she was fully dressed upon leaving and I didn't hear her get dressed."

"She had her shirt unbuttoned," proclaimed Dean. "I saw that… She was still wearing a bra though."

"So what, he barely got second," muttered Ron.

Harry grinned and looked at Dean before turning a menacing stare upon Ron. "Yeah," he said casually. "And you've gotten farther than that with Hermione."

"Well we-…. SHUT UP!" Ron ordered, leaping out of his own bed with his pillow gripped tightly in his hand as if brandishing a weapon.

This produced the effect of making Harry and Dean laugh louder and eventually Ron was laughing with them. When Seamus re-entered the room, however, he was greeted with silence as the three boys had leapt back into their beds upon hearing the door. He looked suspiciously around, his skin twitching in the cold, and then crept soundlessly to his bed where he yanked the curtain shut, but did not go to sleep.

"Why are you grinning?" Hermione asked Harry and Ron over the breakfast table as she read her newspaper.

"Nothing, Hermione," Ron lied, his eyes traveling over to Seamus.

Neville entered the hall and sat down at the table looking tired. He provided a necessary distraction as Ron's ears had turned bright red and it was obvious to Hermione that she wasn't being told something.

"Where'd you escape to this morning, Neville?" Harry asked, tipping bacon onto a plate.

"Oh, um, I was just in the green house," replied Neville his face reddening.

"Well, that's obvious," stated Hermione, lifting up the side of Neville's cloak to point out all the soil on it. "What were you doing?"

"Desdemona is in Herbology club, but since she's patrolling at night she asked if I'd help her this morning," Neville replied, avoiding eye contact as he focused on breakfast.

Sure enough, Desdemona walked in soon after, brushing soil off, though she hardly looked as bad as Neville. Harry assumed all the Herbology club members looked like that in the morning as another girl, he recognized as Rosemary Sunrays, came in looking like a dirt mound. Harry chanced a look up to the staff table, but it seemed the teachers still did not trust the coffee as they all looked older and worn. The owls flew in and Harry searched for a flash of white, though he wasn't really expecting to get anything.

Desdemona got a letter and bolted from her seat, this time though, she wasn't alone. Harry, unaware at first that he was moving, leapt away from the table. Malfoy again felt the need to brighten his morning and reached out the grab Desdemona, only to have his wrist snatched away by Harry, who only released him once Desdemona was past. He then continued his way down the table and out a door as if he'd been intending to just leave. He felt the steaming eyes of the blond burning into the back of his head as he escaped into the hall.

Harry headed down to the grounds and hoped Ron and Hermione wouldn't take forever this morning. The quest for the Donny Llama was supposed to commence. The strange thing was that while he wanted them to hurry up and come, he also hoped they didn't. Over the summer he'd been the most solitary kind of alone there was. His window was closed and locked, his family pretended he wasn't alive, and there was no magic word he could use to make them treat him as a human being because the only magic word that had ever truly worked for him was the word,

"Sirius."

POOF! In a cloud of plum colored smoke a figure appeared before Harry, standing in the shadow of the castle. Harry promptly did the adult slash hero thing to do… Well, he screamed and jumped behind a bush, but he did so with oddly cat-like reflexes. The cloak around the figure was positioned on the arm, covering everything below the piecing eyes. With a twirl, the figure threw back the cape to reveal-

"ERIC!" Harry snapped, leaping out from behind the bush, in a brave way of course.

"Greetings, professor," Eric smiled a fanged grin. Harry noticed he was dressed, as usual, in an outfit that vampire movie costume designers would have loved, and a black cape with red lining.

"You scared the hell out of me!" accused Harry angrily, brandishing his fist.

Eric backed away in an overdramatic cowering motion. "Out of you?" he questioned, peering at Harry from behind his cape.

Harry sighed/growled and collected himself as his mind reminded him that he WAS yelling at a teacher. Eric stood up straight again and leaned against the wall.

"So…," he began, his tone holding more bite than usual. "Enjoying the sun?" he spat.

"Erm," Harry fidgeted uncomfortably. "…No?"

"Shame," Eric sighed, a small sneer spreading across his face that told Harry it was an act.

"Couldn't find Snape?" he asked, figuring the situation out.

"No, he's hiding," Eric laughed evilly. "I'm so bored. Mortimer is asleep- he ran into a wall this morning- and none of the other teachers seem to want to do anything. They're all huddling in groups and hissing about the coffee."

Eric shook his head, though Harry again saw through the act. Eric was perfectly capable of acting like an adult, so when he lowered himself to a pouting child it was usually an attempt to amuse someone. When he saw that Harry wasn't buying it, he shrugged and asked,

"What are you off to do today?"

Harry decided the best course of action was to tell the truth. "Nothing," erm… never mind, heh heh… Oh leave me alone, I have about as much control over this story as you do! I am but the writer, hostage to the plot.

"Nothing?" Eric questioned, looking rather disgusted. "If it's nothing then you best be planning your first class, which is on Monday, remember?"

"…erm, right," mumbled Harry.

"Well, then off you go," Eric jerked his head back towards the school and waited.

Feeling no other option, Harry turned solemnly and re-entered the school. Ron and Hermione found him in the library two hours later, still planning the week's lessons. Their window of time was depleted as Katie bounded in to announce that she was calling a Quidditch meeting. Ron and Harry shuffled off to that, leaving Hermione alone as Desdemona entered the library and asked her something in a whisper.

"Alright, first order of business," Katie announced as they all settled themselves in a crescent around her. "Chase, excellent flying!" Chase grinned and stood up to take a bow as his teammates applauded. "Next, practices have been going well but I think we can stop practicing in that room. That way our new players can adjust to the weather. Now, as my last note.

"Ron, you do not favor your friends or family when it comes to the game and I've been watching you for a while. A captain's job is to do what is best for the team. Ron, you'll be here another year, you know the players, and have a zest as strong as Oliver's is. I want you to be captain."

Everyone was as silent as the dead, their eyes traveling to Ron and their heads slowly following. Ron looked like Hermione had just thrown down her bag and said 'what the hell, let's fuck!' His eyes were wide and shinny as tears welled up in them and his mouth was open in a startled smile. Without much hesitation he let out a blissful.

"I accept," and promptly fainted.

"Right, well…" Katie began, shaking her head and giggling among the rest of them. "I guess we'll just run drills till he wakes up."

Nodding, the Gryffindor Quidditch Team stepped over the corpse and headed out to practice. It was half an hour by the time Ron woke up. He sat bolt upright, marched out and began barking out orders. Harry found his suggestions strange and watched the chasers try to figure out his new instructions. Chase was forced to do multiple stunts at Ron's command, finally being faced with a captain who knew his potential. Ron left Harry alone for the most part, but made him catch the snitch while trying to avoid Mike and Sara, who'd been told to attack him.

Four hours later, Ron decided his practice had ran a little long, much to the moaned agreement of his teammates. They all slithered their way towards the common room, some eventually crawling. When Harry and Ron got back to the common room, Hermione was waiting.

"Don't" Harry stopped her, holding up his hand before she could speak. He managed to reach the dorm room door and stumbled inside where he collapsed onto his bed and was asleep immediately. Again, poor Harry dreamt of that horrible day in the Ministry, and again he wanted his soul just slide out of his body so he could die in peace.

"Harry, get up!" Ron whispered, shaking Harry awake.

"Wha?" Harry replied groggily.

"Hermione sent me to get you. It's after dark; if we're going to go we got to go now," Ron urged. Being already dressed, Harry snuck out of the room behind Ron, knuckling his eye as he walked.

The grogginess did not pass quickly and Harry discovered a wonderful device for finding furniture in the dark. He called it his shin and it seemed attracted to things so much that it would ram into them at random moments. Out the portrait they traveled, the Fat Lady being in a deep sleep, down the hallway and to the portrait he'd hidden his cloak behind. Ron and Hermione kept look out as Harry crept to the portrait and reached behind it, but… his cloak wasn't there!

Just kidding, heh heh… sorry. They pulled the cloak on (insert witty threesome joke as you please.) and traveled through the halls. Flitch was making his own theme music as he flitted from wall to wall like he was in mission impossible. He looked very much like some kind of rabid squirrel as he darted around, peering around corners and making loud sniffing noises. There was a loud clang from another hallway and the nocturnal Flitch let out a strange hiss and loped off towards it like some deranged creature of the night.

The trio decided not to question it and continued on their journey. Desdemona was dancing around on the next floor, having borrowed Mike's invisible music player. She seemed bored out of her skull and her sketchbook lay forgotten. While having the grace to rival a giraffe on ice-skates during the day, she seemed slightly more coordinated now. A feral howl resounded from the floor above and Desdemona was instantly still, waiting to hear more. Mike walked by her, waved, and continued on his journey. He looked towards Harry and group, waved, and kept walking. The trio froze, until Mike looked the other direction and again waved… to nothing.

Mike's usual plea for reasons he was out of dorm past midnight was that he had a chronic disease which made it impossible for him to be alone for long hours without going mildly insane. No one really believed it, but they'd speak volumes in support of it whenever Flitch was around. Chase's excuse had come when he was caught, but instead of running or giving in, he kept walking around with his eyes closed. Flitch yelled for Dumbledore and ran in pursuit of Chase, who 'woke up' when the headmaster arrived and pretended he had absolutely no idea how he got to where he was. Mike and Sara, who'd been hiding, came out and pretended they'd been looking for him, and Desdemona piped up that they'd asked her to help look.

Albus decided it was a good lie and that he and his bunny slippers were going back to bed. Course that was the night they'd learned that Albus slept in Phoenix print footy pajamas. Mike left, heading up to the common room, and the trio headed to the forest. (There was a long and mostly uneventful trip through the halls and across the grounds, in which the characters learned that Snape, who did NOT seem to wash his hair, DID pluck his eyebrows, some of the house-elves were holding illegal poker tournaments, and Hagrid had taken up ballroom dancing… with his mop.)

They reached the edge of the forest and traveled along the trail, keeping the cloak on even though they knew the animals could probably smell and hear them. The forest at night was like walking through a horror movie. The twigs snapped beneath their feet and a strange mist had traveled out from the lake. Eyes watched them from every angle, waiting to see if they'd fall or drop their wands.

Harry kept a firm grip on his wand, casting lumos for them to see the map Sara had given him. Hermione had a tight grip on her wand and kept muttering which spells worked on which creatures. Ron was too busy watching for spiders to do much else. Harry stepped off the path and, following the map, plunged deeper into the forest. Their arms and faces were covered in scratches when-

"Stop!" Hermione hissed. "What's that?"

Harry and Ron's eyes traveled across her pointing arm and horizontally followed the path. Tree. Tree. Moss. Vines. Tree. Bush. Tree. Rock. Squirrel wearing a tie-dyed head band, tree- The hamster in each of their skulls suddenly hit it into reverse and their eyes shot back to the squirrel. It stared at them for a long time, its tinny paws clasped around an equally tinny spear. It stared, one eye oddly bigger than the other and then one paw slip off the spear; and the tinny creature of tinny tinnyness stared suspiciously, held its paw out and asked,

"You guys cool?"

"Erm… yeah," said Harry, his mind overlooking the fact that a squirrel just asked him a question.

"Who sent you?" asked the squirrel (Never though I'd be typing that sentence.)

"Erm… Bob?" Harry took a shot in the dark. (Yes, Bob from accounting made it into the story.)

"Oh! Bob!" The squirrel leapt out of the way. "Why didn't you say so, go in, go in!"

Harry, Ron, and Hermione walked past the squirrel, who then jumped down to lead the way. The forest changed as they walked. It looked less dark and there were brightly colored mushrooms with rainbow frogs hopping all around. Harry saw a group of pixis with brightly colored hair and outfits staggering towards an opening in a tree while singing a dizzy song.

The squirrel stopped in front of a curtain of neon colored flowers and looked around in an overly paranoid fashion. He sniffed the air and seemed suspicious of his own tail. When he was quite through with his silly antics, the squirrel pulled back the curtain and waved them inside. Though considering he was a squirrel, they had to crouch and pull the curtain themselves, even with the squirrel still attached to it.

Harry entered first, of course, and was amazed by the sight before his eyes. It was a strange clearing in the forest that looked strangely like a temple. There was a bolder in the center with different levels carved into it. On the level nearest the top was a cute little bunny rabbit who was meditating. The squirrel loped over to the boulder and said something to a nervous looking albino ferret with scary red eyes.

"Ah!" Shrieked the ferret. He circled his way up the bounder so fast it made the teenagers sick just watching him, and jumped on top. "Master! Master! People, humans are here!" he announced, starting to foam at the mouth.

"Calm yourself," said a voice from behind two palm fronds. The palm fronds fanned apart to reveal a majestic and god-like…. LLAMA! Sitting cross-legged (I'm not sure how!) with his front legs out as if measuring the fate of the world versus eating a spam sandwich. There was a horn in the center of his forehead and he was dressed in a robe of brownish orange. There was a big shinny medallion handing from his neck.

"Are- are you… uh… the… Donny Llama?" Ron asked doubtfully.

"Come, children," the Llama invited, turning his head and spitting. The ferret circled back down the boulder, then up again, then down, then-

"Knock it off!" the bunny growled, mouth open to display rows of big-sharp-pointy-teeth.

The ferret stopped, wringing its paws together and twitching. He was gone in the blink of an eye and popped up on Harry's shoulder, only to make a goofy face and be gone again. Weirded out, the teens stepped forward and began to make their way up the boulder. The ferret popped around, giggling insanely and making odd KWORK! Sounds, when not muttering about Fritos and Cheese doodles.

"Welcome, children, make yourselves comfortable," the llama invited, clicking his cloven hooves and making three pillows appear. "Would you like some green tea?"

"Err, sure," said Harry as they all sat on the pillows, weary of the bunny.

"…Okay," nodded Hermione.

"Sure, but what is up with that ferret?" asked Ron. The ferret danced on his head, told him the relationship was over, and poofed away.

"He has taken to snorting large amounts of fairy dust into his left nostril, but that is not what you traveled here to ask, my young friend," said the llama, turning his head to spit. He clicked his cloven hooves together and the bunny hopped up. "Go and get our new friends some tea," ordered the llama. (Who ordered the llama? Got an order of llama here, who wants it?… sorry! . )

"Sure thing, Donny!" said the bunny, hopping away.

"…You already know why we are here," Harry said, feeling that was obvious.

"Ah, the power to know requires first an understanding of choice," replied the llama in a mystical voice of completely unnecessary wonder. "You are here because you made a choice."

'Duh,' thought the three teens.

"Please, um… sir, we were wondering if you could tell us what is happening at the school?" Hermione piped in, accepting the tea as the bunny hopped back in, the tea cups floating in front of her.

"Albus Dumbledore and a few members of the staff are in a congo line. Severus Snape is storming away from Eric Draven and Mortimer. Minerva McGonagall is wearing a green mudmask and laying with cucumbers over her eyes while muttering 'students.' There are three students sneaking around, Flitch doesn't seem to know his fly is down and Desdemona Embers can see his pink underwear-"

"No, not that" Hermione interrupted.

"Though we can always get back to that later," Ron stated.

"But that was your question," said the llama, turning his head and spitting, this time on the ferret, who announced he now had magical powers.

"We want to know what is happening to the teachers that is making them… Well, we want to know what has been afflicting the teachers lately," said Harry, trying to make his question clear.

"Yes, that's what you came here to ask," nodded the llama, with the ferret on his head.

"Damn weasel!" Hissed the bunny, shaking a tinny paw.

"The teachers are having their knowledge copied and condensed," said the llama. "Salazar made an item after he left the castle, as a kind of joke. He worked on it with Ravenclaw in secret. They decided not to mention it very much and Ravenclaw never even knew it was finished. When someone opens the item, the first sentence they say will put a horrible curse on the school or area that person is around. Who ever says the sentence will be doomed to witness the fourth person in the room… strip. Salazar had a large sense of humor, usually only funny to himself and his followers."

"Like a Pandora's box," nodded Hermione, knocking the ferret off the rock. "What is the item? A locket? A box? A book? A vial?"

"You have already asked your question," the llama informed her, bowing.

"Yeah, but the answer you gave me wasn't right," Hermione shot back.

"I said I had all the answers, I never said they were right… in fact I never said I had all the answers," replied the llama. "Besides that IS what you asked and my answer was accurate."

"Okay, then tell me what the object is," smiled Ron.

"You have already asked your question," smiled the llama.

"Yeah, but it's obvious that he's on crack!" Ron yelped, holding the ferret by the neck.

"Then why did you ask?" replied the llama.

"You never said we only got one question each!" growled Ron.

"You never asked," grinned the llama. "Besides, I find that the all knowing can continue to know all if the amount of questions they have to answer is limited."

"Oh, so you don't know what the object it," nodded Harry, standing up. "Thanks anyway."

"Are you questioning my logic?" the llama asked.

"To do that I would have to be asking a question," replied Harry with a shrug as his two companions stood up. "**I **can answer **more** than one question."

"That WAS one question," the llama stated, as if he knew Harry's trick.

"No, you asked if we wanted tea," grinned Harry. "That makes two questions, so you owe me another question. That's your rule, as far as I can tell. You asked us if we wanted tea, and only then did you answer any questions."

"Ah, yes," the llama nodded. "Ask me your question."

"What is the object?" Harry asked.

"A book," the llama replied.

"I have a question," Hermione announced.

"You only get one question, weren't you listening?"

Hermione grinned and, sighing, the llama motioned for her to ask the question.

"What more can you tell us about the book?"

"The book appears in many myths, but only in passing as no one except its creator ever seems to have been able to touch it. The book absorbs the knowledge of anyone who touches it. It seems to have AI, but that is really just a curse that can be controlled."

"Whose got the book?" Ron asked.

"No more questions," said the llama. And so, the teens were forced to head back to the school; though, admittedly it was not without duplicity and multiple attempts to cheat their way into more questions. In the end the llama answered Hermione's question of "would it hurt to just let us have another question," and informed them that they now OWED him a question. He asked them to describe the laws of quantum physics, so they decided to leave. The trip back to the school was silent, each member trying to think up even the most bull shit laws… but alas, there was nothing.

Again, Neville beat an early retreat from the dorm and headed down to the greenhouse. Harry, Dean, and Ron waited for a girl, but alas, there was nothing. So, having nothing better to do, they fell back into their comas.

"Hey, umm…Wait!"

Neville Longbottom turned as he heard someone running down the hall. His eyes took in Desdemona, who was trotting down the stairs, waving for him to wait. She stumbled as her foot slipped into a trick step and took a _graceful_ face dive to the bottom.

"Er, are you okay?" Neville asked as he grabbed her arm and pulled her to her feet.

Desdemona shook her head dismissively and brushed herself off with her free hand. Her other hand, Neville noticed, was clutching a leather book. "I'm okay," she said, blushing slightly. "I actually have to go make up a test but I wanted to give this to you and I was afraid…" she stopped and Neville nodded that he knew she meant she was afraid one of the Slytherins would take it. "Right," she blushed again, staring off to the side. "Well, here." She gave a slight bow and extended the book to Neville.

He stared at it in surprise and had taken it from her before he'd realized that he'd even moved; remembering that she'd promised to do something nice for him in exchange for his help with her dying Herbology plants, although he hadn't really expected her to do anything. He looked down at the cover and saw the word 'Potions' had been burned into it. He opened up book and looked to the inside cover where a single phrase had been written.

'_It's mostly psychological, if you can learn to take the edge off then anything can be easy.'_

Giving a quick and awkward laugh as he remembered saying that to her, Neville flipped through the pages to find many pictures of different potions ingredients.

"I asked Hermione to write the descriptions and uses for you on the back," Desdemona explained, turning a page on stink weed and pointing to the description. "And, um, if you tap them and say- Mimbulus Mimbletonia... well, just trust me."

Neville tapped the page with his wand, saying "Mimbulus Mimbletonia." The picture melted into another and Neville grinned. "Thanks!"

"Thought it'd help," Desdemona replied, smiling.

"What's this?" came a slow, sneering voice from down the hall. "You two decide to hook up and compare failures?"

Slowly, Neville and Desdemona turned to watch Snape approach with horrified looks upon their faces.

"Hand it over, Longbottom," ordered Snape.

Neville was pale as a ghost, but Desdemona simply winked. "It's just a study book, Professor," she stated lightly, still maintaining her uncharacteristically happy smile.

"From you?" Snape let out a disdainful laugh. "You might be better off asking your toad," he sneered to Neville.

Desdemona stared at the floor, letting her hair fall down and hide her charcoal smudged face. "I'm sorry, but I should go," she said softly, turning away and walking down the hallway towards her make up test in Charms. Snape watched with an amused sneer and yanked the book from Neville's hands as he had turned to watch the tragic figure. Snape opened it and saw the ingredients drawings and descriptions. With a grunt of disappointment he shoved the book back at Neville, who was staring back at him with a look Severus had never seen him express before. Snape turned to walk away when-

"She was trying to help," said Neville, a note of defiance in his voice. He wanted to say more, but found doing so to be difficult so he settled for a stare he hoped showed his anger. Snape glared back at him dangerously and took a few steps closer.

"She should be worrying about her own failing grades," he hissed.

Neville found his voice even as his mind screamed of detention. He was tired of being trampled on by Snape, tired of watching Desdemona become the new victim of all the pranks, tired of watching people walk all over those who were struggling and so he found the urge to speak to the beast that had tormented him since first year.

"She cares about people other than herself, professor. I understand that may be hard for you to grasp, sir."

Snape opened his mouth to reply, but Professor Sprout exited a nearby classroom at that moment and Snape knew the response in his mind would not go over well.

"Detention, Longbottom," he sneered.

"What for, sir?" Neville asked feebly, feeling his stomach drop. Professor Sprout watched the scene with surprise. Of all students in the school, Neville was the last person she expected to get detention.

"For that," Snape answered, gesturing mildly towards the book.

"I didn't know that study books were not allowed," Neville replied, feeling like he might as well push the limits as detention was already a promise and Snape loved punishing him so the worse it was the happier Snape would be during that week's test.

"Study book?" Sprout asked, interested.

"Yes," Neville nodded, handing over the book and feeling a slight glimmer of hope.

Professor Flitwick soon joined the group, humming happily to himself. "What's going on here?" He asked, noting Snape's aggravated stare.

"Isn't Desdemona taking a test with you?" Neville asked, hoping for any excuse he could think of to get away from Snape.

"She asked to take it later," Flitwick smiled simply. Sprout nodded at the book, it was defiantly Desdemona's drawings. She looked up at Snape, not wanting to say out loud that she found nothing wrong with the book as it wouldn't have been polite towards her fellow staff member, yet she felt a strange protectiveness towards her favorite student and was prepared to do whatever it took to get him out of a detention.

Already her mind raced with thoughts of telling Snape that Neville couldn't have detention as he was already making up work with her as he was taking the advanced class. Snape ignored her stare and excused himself from the group, deciding to handle the matter in class, where he would not be interrupted.

"Well then, I'm off to lunch," Professor Flitwick announced.

"I'll join you," Professor Sprout smiled at Neville and handed the book back to him. "If he gives you trouble-" she began.

"I'm alright," Neville replied, feeling greatly embarrassed. "He's just sour."

Professor Sprout cast a beaming smile to Flitwick and they headed to lunch. Neville, nearly fainting with relief, ran towards the Great Hall to be among his fellow Gryffindor and out of Snape's range. He entered the Great Hall and sat purposefully in between Harry and Hermione.

"Hello, Neville," Harry greeted, piling his plate with the chocolate cake that Dobby had sent up for them.

"You're running a tad behind today, aren't you?" Hermione asked, reading a book that was propped up against the milk jug.

In response, Neville set the study book on the table and opened it to lizard's leg. He held his wand above the page, drawing Ron, Harry, and Hermione's attention, tapped it promptly and muttered,

"Mimbulus Mimbletonia." The picture changed and the four students burst out laughing. The pose was obviously from a fashion magazine displaying rich Muggles as one of the model's hands was positioned behind the head, the other on the hip, which was pivoted towards the front and the knees were bent to one side in mock shyness. The clothes undoubtedly belonged to a flashy woman as it had gloves and a wide brimmed hat with a large feather. The face, however, was unmistakably Severus Snape, matching the same facial expression as the model must have been doing. It looked so strange of an expression to see on his face that it seemed to have relocated the bones in his jaw just to accomplish it. The image faded and Ron began demanding to see another one.

"That's why she wanted me to help put a concealment charm on it!" gasped Hermione, though they could all tell she found it amusing.

Neville turned to Tongue of Snake and tapped the page. A cheerleading pose was revealed. The model leaped into the air with skirt and pompoms, though the smiling face belonged to Draco Malfoy, and to top it off he had been drawn with curly blond pigtails. Again a round of guffaws spread through the group as Seamus and Justin came to see what was up. Lee Jordan and Dean followed, surrounding the book. Hermione's only comfort came when Cheerleader Draco opened his mouth and a low sing-songy voice chanted a little song about Tongue of snake, which everyone was soon singing as they pointed at the real Draco.

"Not here!" Lee warned, motioning them to follow him, having been instructed by Fred and George to keep Ron out of trouble. Neville jumped off the bench, shoving the rest of his cake into his mouth and gulping down the milk. Ron bounded after him, then Dean, Seamus, Ginny, and Justin. Harry, feeling this was a big event for Neville, followed the group as they grinned suspiciously, each with a hand on Neville's shoulders, and headed outside. Hermione waited a few seconds, but sighed despite herself and got up to follow. She hated Snape after all and she **had** been the one to put the charm onto the book.

"Wait," Harry stopped, looking around the Great Hall. "Where is Desdemona?"

Hermione also looked around, but Ron merely shrugged.

"She's probably taking a make-up test," he said, trotting after Neville.

Harry, Ron, and Hermione caught up with the group outside in time to hear a round of laughter.

"When your anti-cold turns green like the slime from my nose," sang Draco, now dressed as a ballerina. "Just remember to add some mouse toes. Use them also of course if your voice had gone horse and your potion to help has turned blue for all to see. If you want to cheer up your cat, who had gotten too fat, put some toes in your weight loss remedy."

Neville turned the page to reveal Severus again, this time dressed up like a pink bunny and singing about rabbit's feet. The Sunday afternoon was spent with the book, more and more students coming to listen. Neville cut the group short, opting to not show some pages in promise of a new one every day. Harry, who had been feeling almost queasy with nervousness, relaxed and enjoyed his Sunday before having to teach.

By dinner that night students were humming the songs all through the halls and giggles erupted whenever Draco entered a room inhabited by anyone who had seen Neville's book. When Professor Snape sat down at the staff table for dinner his eyes traveled unpleasantly down the Gryffindor table to see that not one person would look him in the eye and seemed to be crying with laughter. Harry told anyone who would listen to avoid eye contact with Snape no matter what, they didn't ask why. Malfoy sealed his fate by coming up with a taunting cheer about how Harry's parents had probably died hiding in a closet.

The Gryffindor table was perfectly silent as Malfoy lead his table in the chant, but the moment he finished a loud burst of laughter erupted from the Gryffindor table and some of them even fell out of their chairs. Hermione, who hadn't been watching, assumed that not one person had been able to focus long enough to hear what Malfoy had said, and she had to admit that all that was running through her mind had been the song about Snake Tongues. The Slytherin bunch looked so confused that their faces looked, if possible, even dimmer than usual. The Ravenclaw and Hufflepuff tables were silently confused, but the laughter was contagious and soon they were laughing just as well.

The students retreated to their dorms without a care in the world. That was until someone screamed and Professor Flitwick was found lying outside his classroom. He was the next victim and the attack seemed much bolder as it appeared to have happened inside his office, but he had only made it out the door in escape. Harry, Ron, and Hermione cast each other nervous glances, and left the crowd, vowing to look up the legends that the book would be in, and find out how to stop it.

Harry stared forward, his pulse quick and his palms sweaty. He hadn't been prepared for this. He ran his fingers through his hair, trying hopelessly to tame it. He took a breath and tried to calm himself, yet all the while the eyes stared back at him, curios and toned to react to every move he made.

"Well, today we're going to learn about what the Dark Arts are," Harry began. A hand shot up and he was reluctant to call upon it. Yet… "Yes?"

"Tell us about how you first encountered Voldemort!"

"Yeah!" the class chorused, talking excitedly. Harry motioned for them to be quiet, and was ignored.

"People, please, quiet!" he begged, ever aware that there were other classrooms nearby. He shot sparks into the air and the class quieted down. "You need to learn this stuff-"

"Why?" another student asked. "The ministry exists for us! Its job is to protect us."

"Yeah!" piped in another students. "The aurors get paid to watch over us."

"Ah," Harry nodded and walked among them, his arms crossed behind his back. "So tell me. What are you going to do when Voldemort, yes I said it, blows open your door and you are faced with a life or death situation?" He asked evilly. "What are you going to do when the sweet safety of your school is robbed from you and you stand vulnerable before Voldemort and his Death Eaters?" he paused and turned on his heel.

Truth be told he was beginning to enjoy making them squirm, but the thought of people wanting to be sheltered and have people die for them was unnerving. So he continued.

"What are you going to do when the evils of this world are at your doorstep? You're going to hope someone is there to die fighting for you. You want some brave hero when the truth is that dying for someone is supposed to be an extraordinary act of love! If there is one Shepard to every fifteen sheep, and three wolves to every Shepard, what are the odds that the helpless sheep will survive?

"You must learn to defend yourselves because the penalty we pay for having magic, is the misuse of magic," he stopped, letting them reflect on that. "Something is happening to the teachers, what happens when it starts happening to you? You still going to ignore it are you? Then we'll all fail because everyone MUST be able to carry their own weight. So, read chapter one, I want it summarized and on my desk by the end of the week. There will be a test."

Harry ended the class and had an evil thought. He could read their summaries, make a cliff notes version of the text book and become filthy rich! He could assign all his classes to summarize and then he'd be an expert! These thoughts raced through his mind… until the next week when he got them back. They had all basically summed up the same thing and not one of them seemed to have actually grasped the point. The test was an utter failure and Harry was forced to assign the same thing again, give them two weeks, and demand they actually try.

Hermione and Ron were supposed to be looking up the legends surrounding the book, but they were a couple so let's face it, that didn't happen. Neville, however, was doing better in potions, as were all the other Gryffindor students, who told Snape they had a study group and then proceeded to snicker like children.

Harry was exhausted as it seemed every night he was up till one am. Not only did he have to work with McGonagall, and Eric, but he had to grade papers along with his usual homework. Hermione was pleased to see him working so hard, but Ron shared in Harry's suspicion that Dumbledore was just trying to make sure he was too busy to get into trouble. Sadly, Minerva was up to draining five hours out of Harry's life after dinner each night, which was where he was tonight.

"Good!" stated Minerva after the fifth hour. "The books Remus gave you are helping."

"Yeah, sure," sighed Harry, exhausted and about ready to die then and there. Then they both heard it; a loud CLANG that echoed through the hallways. Harry poked his head out the door with Minerva following tensely. Wands at the ready, they peered around the corner and were met with an empty hall. Yet the sound was unmistakable. Before Minerva could instruct him otherwise, Harry slipped on his invisibility cloak and started off along a hallway. Sighing, Minerva took another hallway, mumbling about detention.

Harry rushed around the corner, his eyes darting around for the cause of the disturbance. The hallway was empty of sound until the tat tat tat of boots echoed through it. Harry watched Snape emerge into sight, having also heard the sound. His wand was out and ready and his eyebrows were primped and plucked. Reluctantly, Harry stuck his hand out of the cloak and caught Snape's attention.

"Potter!" he growled in the direction he hoped Harry was still in. "What are you doing sneaking around the halls this late!"

"Nothing wrong, otherwise I wouldn't have let you know I was here, would I?" replied Harry's disembodied voice.

"Go to your dormitory at once!" ordered Snape, facing an empty wall as Harry had moved. Before Harry could reply, another loud sound was heard and Harry bolted for the stairs with Snape at his heels. (That'll be funny later.) The pair leapt around the corner to reveal… yet another empty hallway. Then-

"Flitch!"

He was lying on his back as if he was pushed and never caught himself as his eyes stared up at the ceiling, glazed over. Harry stepped closer to have a better look. Salazar's book seemed to only be targeting staff members anyway so the only one in any danger was Snape; and truth be told Harry liked that… a lot. Then it hit. Harry screamed out in pain and dropped to his knees, his hands pressed firmly against his scar. Voldemort was near! Though he seemed terribly sad. Snape's arm burned and he clutched it tightly while his eyes jumped around in paranoia. That was the last thing Harry saw as his world dissolved into darkness.


	6. BatMan

( Ooooh, I made a mistake. Flitwick got attacked twice…hmm, replace Flitwich with Teijina, the Magical Languages Teacher…. I suck, it is replaced though… Anyway! I'd like to thank my lovely reviewers (both of them) who make wasting my time writing this worth while. Go on, take a bow! )

Harry Potter awoke to the familiar smells of the infirmary. Though he couldn't remember how he'd gotten there. He moaned as the over all ickyness of how he was feeling came shooting up. He seemed to be having a hangover as any sound or light hurt. He forced himself to sit up and looked around. There was light cascading in from the windows and the sweet smell of flowers drifted from the vases of them that had been sent to the teachers. Harry's eyes fell upon the bed next to his and his heart stopped briefly. There, lying quite helplessly, was Desdemona.

Harry jumped off the bed and hurried to her, instinctively checking for a pulse as he remembered Voldemort's presence. She was alive and let out a soft moan as he moved his hand. Her face was, as usual, covered with charcoal smudges and there was paint in her hair and clay on her clothes. Harry knew she was patrolling the halls at night, but if she'd seen Voldemort she'd be dead… so what happened? Harry brushed the hair away from her face with his hand and noticed that there was a scratch on her face, like she'd been hit by something.

"Embers?" he asked in a whisper as she began to stir in her sleep.

Desdemona turned onto her side, but did not awaken. Harry saw that there was more to the scratch, but her hair fell onto it before he could see clearly what it was. Hesitantly, he reached forward and brushed the hair away again. There was a deep scratch, and a bruise above that, then another, smaller, scratch near her eye. Harry traced his hand across it and jumped slightly as she reached up and grabbed his wrist.

Desdemona opened her eyes and looked fretfully around. "What happened? Where am I?"

"The infirmary," Harry answered calmly. "I'm not sure why."

Desdemona realized she'd grabbed him and quickly released her grip, embarrassed. "S-sorry," she cringed.

Harry shook his head. "Do you remember what happened?" he asked.

'Uh… I was patrolling and I heard footsteps…" Desdemona stated, staring off into a distant corner as she remembered.

"Then what?" Harry urged.

"I… I can't remember," whispered Desdemona, dropping her head.

Harry nodded, figuring she'd been hit in the… He stopped. Wasn't that what Madam Pomfrey had thought was happening to the teachers? The llama had told them what was really happening, but what if the attacker really did attack before using the book?

"Do you, erm, feel off in any way?" he asked stealthily.

"I'm okay," Desdemona replied robotically, sliding off the bed and looking hesitantly towards the nurse's office. "Should we tell her we're up?"

"Yeah, probably." Wondering if she'd turn out to have the same symptoms as the teachers, Harry added "Stay here, I'll go tell her." He crossed to the office and peeked in. Madam Pomfrey was asleep over a stack of parchment. Harry cleared his throat loudly and eventually nudged her awake.

"Wha- huh?" she looked up at him. "What is it dear?"

"Er, well,-"

"You're awake I see, how do you feel?" Madam Pomfrey asked, sparing him from having to answer.

"Fine, but I was wondering what happened to Embers," stated Harry, watching Madam Pomfrey for any sign that she felt the subject was too touchy for her to answer. "I mean, she's got that mark on her face and-"

"What mark?" Madam Pomfrey demanded.

Unconsciously, Harry traced where the mark was with his fingers. "The left side of her face, near her eye. Looks like she got hit with something."

Madam Pomfrey pushed past him and into the main room. Desdemona, who was sitting patiently on the bed, saw the look on the nurses face that every teenager recognizes; the, you're-going-to-wish-you'd-bolted-for-the-door, look. Now, of course we all know that we can't bolt for the door because the nurse would just call our class, yadda, yadda, yadda, but we all know the look and that it means we have to do some fast talking. Riona knew this as well.

"I should be off to class," she began. "Important day today and I'd hate to get behind," she continued devotedly. "I already have a mound of homework that needs to be finished-"

"You'll stay here for observation," Madam Pomfrey interrupted, "and I'll send word to your teachers."

"B-b-but I have potions and Professor Snape won't let me make it up later!" Desdemona proclaimed as Harry re-entered the room.

"Professor Snape will-"

"Will what?" asked a daunting voice.

Harry didn't need to look and see who it was. He knew it was Snape because they'd been talking about him and he had the annoying habit of showing up when it would be the most embarrassing for those in the room. Madam Pomfrey also seemed aware of this, but Embers jumped out of her skin like some kind of bizarre snake and nearly fell off the bed.

"Will let Ms. Embers make up her potions assignments while she is under my care," Madam Pomfrey intoned, having a stare-off with Snape. Harry inched his way towards the door, hoping to sneak past the adults while they were distracted.

"Wellyou'rebusyandI'mbettersoI'mgonnago, bye," he waved and tried to bolt out the door.

"Mr. Potter!" Madam Pomfrey snapped.

If Snape hadn't been there, Harry would have argued that he'd been through the drill so many times it wasn't helpful to keep him there. He had had a problem; he was okay now so he was officially done! Then another idea crossed him. He nodded diligently and became very agreeing. A grin spread across his face as if something wonderful had just happened. Snape immediately became suspicious, as did Madam Pomfrey and in unison they told him to leave.

Harry put up the best arguing voice he could and said, "But-"

"Go!" ordered Snape as Madam Pomfrey stormed off as a final statement.

Harry tried to look down-hearted and shuffled out of the room, leaving poor Desdemona to curl up in a fetal position underneath a blanket and hope they left her alone.

"Now what?" she wondered.

Harry, however, danced down the hallway with joy that can only be caused by outsmarting the system. It was a glorious feeling! Now, of course the entire situation with the attacks caught up and stopped all the nonsense; (you wish!) well, the dancing anyway. Harry trudged off in hopes of ducking into one of his classes before he was called in to talk to the headmaster. Which of course didn't work and he found himself in the stairwell the Dumbledore's office. It appeared that Snape had been sent to the infirmary to tell Harry that Albus wanted to talk to him, so really all Harry's brilliant scheme had gotten him was an extra half-hour of paranoid freedom.

"Ah, Harry," Dumbledore beamed, making Harry wonder what he was hiding in the Tokerstashide plant. "Have a seat."

Harry sat obediently and stared forward with a glazed over appearance that told he wasn't exactly thrilled to be there and was preparing, as all adventurous and a little bit crazy teenagers do, for a very long and time wasting lecture in which they'd take the time to ponder the ingredients of a Twinky. I mean, why is it immortal? It's like a tasty little cockroach pastry. Okay, okay, it's not tasty. But I have a few buried in the backyard. Yes and in a million years some starving person will uncover it and… probably re-burry it but it'll still be… edible? In the form it was originally intended to be? The new God to a group of roaches? Ahem… back to the fic.

"Well, then let's get right to business, shall we?" Dumbledore offered, not waiting for Harry to answer, he continued. "I've noticed how down you seem this year, as have others. What with Voldemort back it seems no one is displaying much enthusiasm and I wish there was something I could do about it."

"Well, why don't you just hire a bunch of clowns to entertain the school," Harry offered blandly. "You could have them bounding through the halls between classes and dancing on the sidelines during meals."

"Goodness, no," Albus laughed gently. "I don't think such dramatic displays are necessary."

"Well, that's my opinion and if you don't want it then can I leave?" proposed Harry.

The cheer melted down and off of Dumbledore's face and he cast his eyes down. The headmaster nodded slowly and linked his finger together. Harry knew better than to speak, even in his frustration he knew that a very ugly side of Dumbledore could show itself at any moment.

"Harry, it seems that all the conversations between you and I have been either full of secrets, or long overdue," Albus took off his glasses and rubbed his eyes for a moment before replacing the specks and staring back at Harry. "I understand you not wishing to talk to me about your troubles, but denial isn't going to make things better. You already know I'm having the professors keep an extra eye on you, but it's not due to a lack of trust. The truth is that Voldemort was unable to kill you twice now and it has created a brutal scar across his reputation."

"Well, he's not attacking me, instead something is attaching the professors," replied Harry pointedly.

"Yes, that was what I called you here to talk about-"

"Well don't bother," interrupted Harry. "Ron is selling the plants and coaching the team, Hermione is having a study war, and I'm teaching a class. We are all busy this year, but if you'd like to discuss the matter with someone you might try asking Sara, Mike, or Chase as they're the ones trying to solve the matter."

Albus nodded very slowly, his eyes downcast and excused Harry with a wave of his hand and a soft, "Then I have no reason to keep you from your class."

"So what happened?" Ron demanded on their trip to their Care of Magical Creatures class.

Harry explained exactly what had happened and noticed that Hermione was allowing Chase, Mike, and Sara into the conversation.

"Oh, well tell him you lot are butting out," Sara confirmed, having perfected a British accent thanks to her many conversations with Ginny.

"He reads minds," Harry informed her.

"Then we'll send in Mike, poor boy doesn't have a mind to read," said Sara.

Harry took notice that instead of getting offended, Mike grinned with honor and nodded his head in agreement. Their conversation took a sharp left turn as Hagrid came into hearing range.

"Yes, but why is there a hole?" Mike asked. "I'd love to see a hole-free donut."

"I believe it's a convenience thing," replied Hermione, about to launch into why she thought that.

"I like donut holes, ya know, the little mini donuts they roll in cinnamon sugar," stated Chase.

"Maybe it was a brilliant advertising scheme," Ron offered.

As Hagrid rolled his eyes and began the day's lesson, the six teenagers made sure to continue their pastry argument whenever he listened in. Other moments were spent relaying facts and combining information. They were dealing with toddler Nues, so no one was listening to any secret conversation. Why on earth Hagrid wanted them to care for a creature whose preferable diet was human, no one knew, though Harry thought that having an army of hand fed Nues was a great idea so long as it wasn't his hands being fed to them. So far they were ripping chunks of goat flesh into strips and trying to convince the toddlers to eat it. The plan wasn't going so well.

Hermione's Nue had already spat the food back at her, giggling after it did so, and she was proceeding to scold it. Harry and Ron ignored this as their job was to rip apart the goat. Chase, Mike, and Sara's Nue was a girl with blond curly hair and bright blue eyes. She looked like an angel, but had Mike by the finger while Chase and Sara panicked and tried to avoid the claws.

"Bad Angel, bad!" Hagrid scolded, yanking open the girl's jaws to reveal exceedingly sharp teeth. Angel giggled and looked to Sara with evil eyes.

"Angel?" Sara spat. "Fallen Angel more like it."

Harry looked to the Nue stationed at their table. A boy with brown eyes, black hair, and a projectile vomiting demon living just behind his left nostril. Or so went the rumor as little Timmy's head spun around.

After the class the students trudged back towards the school. Mike had been sent to the nurse early to get his finger sewn back on, though Sara and Chase had to drag him there with his finger under a freezing spell as he'd promptly fainted. No one blamed him though as a few people had fainted and not one person would go near the Nues except Hagrid, who was telling them that it was all a misunderstanding.

At dinner time, the Gryffindor students that had attended Hagrid's class were not eating and kept looking over at Mike, who was staring t his finger and slowly flexing it up and down as if telling someone to come over. Chase and Sara sat on either side of him, making sure no one said Angel. Dinner was Chili from Wendy's and -(No! I kid! Haha ha ha!)

Harry saw Desdemona and as everyone headed up to the dorms he held back and approached her. He'd been thinking about it all day, and had a feeling that as Flitch's slave, Desdemona would be the next victim. He crossed over to her and smiled as kindly as he could as she always looked so timid.

"Hey," he greeted. "Sorry about ditching you earlier."

"Don't mention it… ever," she replied, casting a look up at Snape and shivering.

"Right," Harry nodded in confusion. "Anyway… I don't think you should patrol the halls anymore. It's too dangerous."

"But Flitch says I have to."

"You HAVE to get out of it as soon as possible."

"I'll ask-"

"I'm serious, Embers, I don't want you to get hurt. Talk to Dumbledore about it."

Desdemona stared at him in obvious surprise and nodded. "I-I'll go see him first thing tomorrow morning."

"Good.

Harry Potter trudged diligently towards his office that had been assigned to him for use while teaching. He passed Snape, who was in a very sour mood for some reason. on his way and froze, not daring to enter the office around him. The potion Master's eyes locked onto him like search missiles.

"Potter," he spat, full rant mode, having seen him talking to Embers.

Harry sighed, wondering what new cruel and unusual punishment Snape would think up for the next class due to his jealousy that Harry had gotten the DADA teaching position and not him. Though he was saved by a sudden poof… actually it was a sudden POOF! Followed swiftly by-

"There you are!" Eric smiled brightly. "You didn't get my note to meet me in the lounge then, did you?"

Severus turned even paler and wheeled on Harry, daring him to speak. Harry, however, had already had a nice long laugh about Eric pretending to hit on his least favorite teacher. He tried to look perplexed and unsuspecting, which is soooo hard for a teenager to do . 

"I told Mortimer to give it to you, have you seen him?" Eric asked, expecting Snape to give up the bat.

"No," Snape replied coldly, but seriously.

Eric froze and turned to Harry. "Find him and Gryffindor gets fifty points," he stated quickly.

Harry nodded and left the two adults to have some alone time. Now, traveling the dark corridor at night, a strange thought occurred to Harry. Something was attacking the teachers, so what's the first thing Dumbledore did? Make Harry a teacher. The brilliance was marveling. Harry found that Mortimer had gotten himself stuck in a closet. He let him out and watched the bat walk out, stretch, and seem to be storming of towards something… going barely .5 mph.

Sighing, Harry picked him up and headed back to where he'd left Snape and Eric. That was the point he felt Voldemort's presence again. Luckily, the pain made him release the bat instead of squeezing the life out of it. Mortimer, now a bat on a mission, let out a loud screech that shook the walls and made Harry have to cover his ears, but the presence lessoned and he took the opportunity to grab up the bat and run. He got fifteen feet and was hit again, this time he wasn't as lucky and dropped to his knees in agony.

Meanwhile.

Eric and Snape charged down the hall in the direction they'd heard the screech. However, it had ended and they were left without a path to follow. Snape offered to split up, but Eric ignored him. There were only a few reasons Mortimer would have done that. If someone was in danger, or if he was in danger. Their search was renewed as the bat came flapping down the hall yelling.

"HEEEEEELOOOW!"

"Mortimer!" Eric shouted, noticing that Mortimer had shut his eyes and was hurling himself through the halls. He grabbed the bat and shook him as they continued to walk down the hall. "It's alright, what's happened?"

"It doesn't speak English," droned Severus, overly annoyed.

"He, helow helow, hee, low low, heh," chirped Mortimer.

"Harry Potter is in danger!" Eric gaped, worriedly. "And a student has been attacked!"

Snape's jaw hit the floor and his face froze in pure amazement. "How, you can, but it, I've never…. He told you that?" babbled Snape uncharacteristically.

Eric smirked. "No, I can see them," he stated, pointing down the hallway to their left where he could see Harry and another student fighting.

Severus shot him a glare that forced Eric to poof to the other side of the hall where Harry was being throttled by the delusional boy. Harry, giving up on guy morals, prepared to knee the seventh year in the crotch to keep from being choked to death. Eric, however, intervened and shoved the two apart. The other student promptly collapsed to the floor and Harry formulated a theory, remembering how the presence had been so strong. If he'd turned the corner he had no doubt that Voldemort would have been standing right there and then this guy had jumped out and attacked.

So Voldemort was using an unforgivable to control people. What if all the teachers had been being controlled by him and he simply rid himself of them when… when what? Whenever he was about to be caught? That made sense as Harry had felt his presence twice now before seeing a victim.

"Are you alright?" Eric asked Harry.

"Yes," replied Harry, his voice far away as he thought through his suspicions.

"Harry?" spoke Eric, giving him a light shake.

"Huh?" asked Harry, shaking his head and snapping out of his thoughts.

"Are you okay?"

Harry nodded and looked down at the other student. "What's with him?" he asked, as if he had absolutely no idea what had just happened.

"Er, stress?" Eric guessed, shrugging. "Why don't you, um, go to your office."

"I think I'll go to my office," stated Harry, sounding dazed.

"Good idea," nodded Eric as Snape stalked over looking pleased that Harry was uninjured… yeah right. He held his usual scowl and it seemed a piece of him had died at the knowledge that Mr. Potter would still be continuing to breathe this evening. Harry rushed away towards his office to leave the student in the hands of the adults.

"He's a buftie," laughed a Slytherin boy, pointing at poor Chase, who'd been knocked to the floor.

"What?" asked a Ravenclaw girl on her way to breakfast, rolling her eyes as she was smart enough to think anything a Slytherin would make fun of was good in her book.

"A bum-boy!" Malfoy sneered, towering over Chase, who felt that replying or responding to the Slytherin ignorance was stupid.

"Shut up!" Sara snapped fiercely, not nearly as emotionally controlled as Chase. "Or I'll make you."

"…He is an arse-bandit, and she's the beard," chortled Millicent, pointing at Sara.

"That's it!" Mike leapt forward onto the Slytherin and started throwing punches.

Meanwhile, Sara was staring Millicent dead in the eye. Sure, she was half the size of the Slytherin girl, but Sara was never one to care.

"What's wrong, yank?" sneered Millicent. "You should run along now before you get hurt! You and that cheap knock-off you're wearing, " and with that she launched an ink bottle at Sara's chest. Sara was knocked to the ground, her outfit ruined. She wiped ink off her face and slowly her eyes traveled up to Millicent.

"Ooh it's on now, bitch," she launched herself forward onto the brute and began clawing away. "And my outfit is NOT a knock off! I like in the fashion capital of the world!"

Mike was performing a facial re-arrangement upon Malfoy, who was trying to return the favor, while Chase tried to break up the fight. That was until he was hit and thus returned the blow. Malfoy was out cold and Mike attacked the other boy, stating his thanks to Chase. Eventually they just stopped and stared over at the girls. Guy fights included punching, pushing and pulling and was usually a battle to end up on top. Girl fights had no rules or code of honor. Hair pulling, clawing, biting, everything was fair game and they even spat out insults. They had to be pulled part by the guys and still Sara fought to maul Millicent. She clawed the air and fought Chase to let her go, and that was how Eric found them.

"… Ahem, adult figure in the area," said Eric.

The fight froze and everyone looked over at Eric, having never seen him before. All except those in Harry's DADA club. Eric shook his head and sighed, knowing he had to be an adult.

"She bit me!" Millicent spat.

"He punched me!" Malfoy sniveled.

"I'm bleeding!" the third guy cried.

"You're excused to go to the nurse… anyone else?" Eric asked.

"Nah, were good," replied the Americans after briefly examining their multiple injuries.

Eric raised an eyebrow as the Slytherin crawled off to go lick their wounds. "Yes, well. I'm sure I'll see you all in class today, as punishment for fighting how about you hand out these maps."

"Will do."

Meanwhile

Harry, who was staring at the above paragraph and wondering why this story was moving so fast, sat down at the breakfast table where he was pleased to see that Eric had sent him a note saying that he was cleared to teach and would be doing so starting today. Sara, Mike, and Chase were running around throwing maps in the air. Sara's 'savage kicks' as she called them, turned out to have a comfort time limit and after ten minutes she was hading out maps while Mike chartered her around on his back.

Neville entered briefly, covered from head to toe in twigs and dirt. He hadn't been at the dorm room in two days and spent all his free time in the greenhouse. Neville grabbed some toast and headed up to change and take a shower before classes. Rosemary entered shortly after him, yawning and hurrying to do something with her hair. It seemed the morning rituals had been preformed and thus a crappy day was inevitable. Still, it was the first day n two weeks where he wouldn't have to grade papers.

The day wasn't as bad as Harry first assumed. All the substitutes, who had been delivering lectures auctioneer style and tests in rapid fire procession in order to impress the real teachers, were now reviewing so classes were a hundred percent easier. Then came the DADA class that everyone had been waiting for. They climbed the steps and Harry noticed that people seemed to get antsier as they climbed. Finally, after a ridiculously long limb in which many people swore never to move again, a door appeared. Harry, who had known to pace himself, was in front so he opened the door and stepped inside the classroom with Hermione and Ron dragging themselves in behind him.

There was more light in the room now, though it was either created but a fireplace or cascaded in through a window behind the desk that revealed full moon. No one quite understood the full moon as it had been just after lunch when they'd began the climb. Harry, Ron, and Hermione chose seats near the front as they liked Eric, though everyone else who wasn't in Harry's DADA club skirted around the back of the room and barely managed to force themselves into the chairs. As the class murmured loudly, pointing around the room as they did so, Harry, Ron, and Hermione took the time to whisper about… well, you know what they were discussing, if you don't then you're new and I'd like to say welcome, please read chapters 1-5 before this one.

A door faded into existence in the far right corner or the room, near the front. It opened with a would-be eerie creak had Harry not known it was human, and Professor Draven made his entrance. It was obvious he'd done it a lot that day and thus knew what they were thinking. He was dressed in an eighteenth century nobelman's outfit, and cape. His eyes were half lidded and he seemed above them all in some way. Harry heard the familiar gasps from the girls and then they all leaned forward in unison. Professor Draven faced his students and scanned through each isle taking in each face, though he was silent, and so was the class.

"Welcome, class," began the Professor, his voice intriguing and his smile just managing to conceal his fangs. Extending his hand out in a theatrical introduction motion he said, "My name is professor Draven and this is advanced Defense Against the Dark Arts. By being here you have shown me you have what it takes to accept and defend yourselves against the dark arts… No I want you to prove it to me!" He had his wand out and firing a spell within the blink of an eye.

Harry, who had moments ago been too exhausted to move, leapt to his feet and cast a shield spell. He yelled for the rest of the class to move and tried to return fire as Eric fired out another attack. Harry shoved his shield out at the curse, deflecting it and fired out at Eric, who cast a cancellation spell.

"Enough!" he lowered his wand and a calmly pleased look spread across is face. "Good," he said slowly. "The goal of this class is for all of you to have the same response time under any circumstance. I don't wish to make you all paranoid and stressed, but the truth is that Voldemort – stop that!- Voldemort is back and if you want to survive, well, Harry is living proof of what you need to do in order to survive."

After the class started blinking and breathing again, they all took their seats. Eric set back upon his desk and waited for them to calm down.

"Now, another rule is not to judge based on anything except character," he spoke. "Name a creature you view as evil."

"Ogre, Troll, Chimera, demon!" The class erupted with shuts of creatures until Eric heard the one he was waiting for.

"Vampire."

"Ah, but why?" he asked.

"I read Dracula; and in the bible there is a paragraph about creatures that are cursed to fear the light, feed upon the life force of others, and roam the earth forever."

"Ah yes, but as there are fallen ones among the angels, there are fallen ones among the demons," he smiled and at that moment the entire room was met with a kind smile and eyes that that sparkled with the simple wish of being accepted.

The class was silent again. The individual standing before them was more impressive than scary. After giving the students a few minutes to reflect upon the matter, Eric continued.

"In this class I will respect you as adults so long as you act like an adult. This means you must be responsible for your actions. If you don't come to class, it's not a loss to me, but it will be your responsibility to make up notes, homework, and tests. Now, as you'll be working together and this is a mixed class so most of you might have not met one another. So, let's see…"

He snapped his fingers and a scroll of parchment appeared in a puff (the magic dragon, heh, heh.) of smoke. "Gracing us from Hufflepuff is Rosalyn and Jeffery. Joining us from Ravenclaw we have Robin, Anna, Nathaniel, William, Nigel, and Desdemona. Representing Gryffindor we have Hermione, Neville, Ron, Harry Sara, Mike, and Chase-"

"Gay!" coughed one of the Slytherin in the back of the room who everyone recognized as the Snape miniature.

"I'm going to rip of your head and spit down your throat if you direct another comment towards me or my friends!" Sara hissed, and no one doubted that she' do it as her finely manicured nails were long and very sharp… and pink at that moment.

"It was his choice to be a fairy, he'll have to live with the consequences," Malfoy snobed back.

Sara was silent and motionless… for about three second before she suddenly leapt from her chair and pounced on Malfoy, who was screaming like a girl by this time. The class was in an uproar and Eric, having heard the comment, snapped into action… or so he would have had there not been something in his eye preventing him from seeing. (Ya gotta love him!)

"Sara!" Chase snapped, rising slowly out of his chair.

Sara stopped and looked back at him, hands firmly clasped around Malfoy's neck, her razor sharp nails longing to rip and tear and maul and kill and maim and slaughter and… whoa, I need counseling. "Yes?"

"Get off him."

With a sweet smile and perky shrug, Sara released her death grip and skipped off to her seat. Chase had his wand out as Malfoy moved to attack, Crabbe and Goyle right beside him.

"Well, if it's a fairy you want…" Chase sneered and fired out a transfiguring charm he'd been working on since his first year at school.

In an instant the spell hit the trio's clothing and everyone who had seen Neville's book, which was everyone except the Slytherin, exploded with laughter. Malfoy was dressed in a lovely pink outfit complete with tights, unicorn sparklies, and rainbow fairy wings. His short skirt was frilly and ballerina-ish. The top was flowy and showy and everything you'd expect a fairy outfit to be… if said fairy happened to be a four year old girl. There was a tiara in his hair, sparkling distractingly, and his wand was an exact replica of the one the good witch has in The Wizard of Oz.

Goyle had a violet inspired design that included a giant flower hat that, try as he may, he couldn't pull off his head. The oh tho manthculin (say it with a wrist flick and a coy smile to match the stereo type,) blouse had ruffled sleeves and was lavender in color… like it could be lavender in anything else… except scent. The skirt was another flower, its leaves thankfully sufficient in covering what no one wanted to ever see without loads of therapy afterwards. White tights and curly little purple shoes to match Malfoy's pink ones.

Modeling the flowing ballroom of shimmering rainbow colors that most girls have seen on the Princess Moonfire tapes of way long ago. (yes, way long ago is a time, it's like yesteryear only… way long ago.) And yes, ladies, they were all wearing corsets. Ah, sweet torture. Striking what now looked like power puff girls poses, Malfoy and goons blinked a few times, before trying to attack. Eric, however, having 'removed' the pesky nothing from his eye and instructed everyone to take their seats.

"Change us back!" Malfoy demanded loudly.

"Why is it you three are dressed in costumes?" Eric asked, looking thoroughly irritated.

"They're always dressed like that," Desdemona piped in, not caring that she was barely two feet from them or that their desk was behind hers.

"Yes, well there is a dress code," Eric muttered. "Please take your-"

"CHANGE US BACK!"

"I can't as I'm not sure what spell he has used and the only thing I could do might remove your clothing and I can't subjugate the rest of the class to that, if you wish to be turned back then I suggest you apologize to Mr-"

"No fucking way!"

"I don't want that, I'll settle for an apology," Chase whispered, causing Mike and Sara to snicker uncontrollably.

"Well then I suggest you sit down," Eric instructed, walking back to the front of the room. "Or I shall send you up to the headmaster's office."

"I'll tell my dad!"

"Oh my God, he sounds like me!" Sara gasped. "I'll tell daddy, I say that all the time!"

"Yeah, but you're a princess," Mike reasoned.

"So is he by the looks of it," Sara snickered.

"Nope, a queen," grinned Chase.

"SHUT THE FUCK UP YOU BLOODY YANKS!"

"Ding, I'm sorry but I've heard enough," Eric stepped in between the two groups. "If you'll please head to the headmaster's office."

After a lot of bitching, moaning, whining and growling, the trio headed out and to the headmaster's office where everyone was hoping the Headmaster had a camera and enough sense to use it.

"Heelow!"

"WHAT IS THAT?" Ron demanded.

"I sleep all day, I fly at night. I have no feathers to aid my flight," chanted Eric.

"What!"

"Look up," Harry instructed.

The entire class looked to the ceiling where two bats were visible. The class began murmuring amongst themselves, staring and pointing at the bats.

"… I read a book on Vampires," a girl in the back stated. "Dracula. He could change into a bat."

"Wow, those bats up there, are they your family?"

"In a way, but no, that bat can not turn human, and if he can then he's been hiding that from me and he's gravely in danger because he is a dizzy soul and would get a DUI at least once a week."

The class laughed and Eric continued his speech.

"There are rules in this class that you all must follow. Be on time, laugh at my jokes," he said as he walked through the rows. "Be nice to your classmates, turn in your homework… I'm just kidding, I don't give homework." He stopped behind Desdemona and peered over her shoulder for a few minutes. "Oh, and another thing, all caricatures of me must be in this pose," he struck a super hero pose and continued. "I must warn you, beware of bat droppings-"

"What!"

"Relax, it's when-"

Though they all discovered exactly what bat droppings were for Mortimer lost his footing and came tumbling down. As usual, a force field prevented any damage and Mortimer simply stretched and looked around as if just noticing them.

"Heelow," he yawned cutely.

A wave of aww's flooded from the girls and intrigue hmph's from the guys. Mortimer walked across the desk and into Sara's bag, where he went to sleep again.

"Like I said, he's a dizzy soul," Eric nodded as if that explained everything. "He'll usually be up but he had a busy night."

"What's up with the other one?" Mike asked, pointing to the other bat.

"That's fake… it's a teddybat," Eric explained with a shrug that proved he found nothing wrong with that.

"Where'd you get such an adorable bat?"

"Oh? Didn't you know?" Eric re-struck his hero pose. "I am… Batman!"

Robin jumped up next to him and struck a matching pose. "And I am… getting sick of all these dumb jokes, Eve."

(Hey! Shut up or you die in chapter seven!)

"You suck."

(I do not I – oh god… I really do need counciling.)

So began what would turn out to be the most enjoyable class of the year. Later there were pictures circulating though the halls as even though Dumbledore hadn't had a camera, Lee Jordan did. Eric told anyone who questioned him about the matter that he hadn't seen any attack. "Mr. Malfoy just jumped up and began demanding to be changed back, though the rest of the students insisted that he always dressed that was and was just looking for attention." Every student in the school knew that was a lie but not one of them was ready to say otherwise.

Snape wasn't happy as Harry had told them about how Eric was pretending to hit on the potions master and this Snape could not walk through the halls without someone commenting on how mean he was being to Eric.

"And after he sent you such lovely flowers!"

Severus was unable to do anything to stop this as the majority of the students adored Professor Draven and he was a favorite among the faculty as well. No matter how much trouble Malfoy's dad tried to cause, there was plenty more parents saying they wanted Eric to stay as they were just glad to see a DADA teacher that loved his job and his students. His impressive teaching record helped matters along as the school in Brazil was singing his praises.

Professor Draven encouraged them all to be cliché's. "Be a walking cliché, it's better than being an individual." This was a joke because being such a cliché made him an individual. Mortimer was definately a dizzy soul who loved cheese, his teddy-bat, strawberry lip gloss, and having fun. He enjoyed switching people's hats and was usually around the class unless he was pouting, in which case he'd be in a corner with his back to them and his nose in the air.

"Give me my hat!" Sara yelped, running down the hall one day. "That's Prada!"

"Heelow!" Mortimer cried.

"What's he doing?" Ron asked as the pair rushed past him.

"Probably going to find Prada and give her the hat back," Hermione giggled.

"Mor-tim-eeer!" Eric groaned, running after them to help Sara retrieve her hat.

"I'll give you some cheese!" Sara pleaded.

"No!" Eric shouted. "Never negotiate with a terrorist."

"Mortimer!"

This was becoming ritual through the halls so no one thought twice about it and continued their daily lives. Hermione was happy because they could now go to the library to look up things about Salazar and if they were caught, Eric would say she was doing extra credit. His rule was: I lie for you, you lie for me. They found out that the student who'd been attacked was a seventh year and the head of the History of Magic club. Though he kept claiming he had no recollection of the entire day he'd been attacked. Ginny tried to determine if he'd been possessed or not, but there were no gaps other than that day.

So they'd reach yet another dead end, and so our story continues. Who will be attacked next? When will Harry Potter find out what the fuck is going on? Will Mortimer ever get his cheese? Will Sara ever get her hat? Tune in next time! Same bat story, same bat website.


	7. Zaara

Hellooooo every body… buried in the backyard. –cough- HEY Jacqui! And why exactly aren't you reviewing for every chapter, missy? God, I'm needy. Meh, oh well. –Shrug- Hmmm… Well… my rival has yet to post a chapter… says her hamster died; the one that turns the wheel that powers her brain. Um, so I guess this story will be a tad long as we are supposed to finish at the same time so there will be no arguments like- you only won cause you finished first and so nobody read mine. –sigh- I hope she gets hers up soon. Tralala la la… la- okay, I think it's time I put down the pixi sticks. So! Um… you guys just want me to start the chapter, don't you? You'd like that wouldn't you? Well too bad, cause I got a lot to say… … … … … Erm… … … Uh… … … oh stfu. On with the fic.

"I'm going to be next," Hermione whispered during their next DADA class, the rest of the class being busy practicing shield charms as Mortimer dive-bombed them, having a nifty little shield himself.

"Why do you think that?" Ron asked her, watching the bat closely and thus informing Hermione that he thought she was over reacting.

Surprisingly, she wasn't pleased about this. She stared at him with her head turned slightly to the right and tilted but her eyes locked directly onto his. Her lips were pursed together and her arms were tightly crossed. With her frizzy brown hair she looked very much like a lion about to bite. When Ron took his eyes off the flying mammal and retrieved the look like an obedient little dog he was quick to apologize and thus save the relationship as it was that time of the month. Only then did Hermione continue in a voice of importance.

"The teachers and the best students are the ones in the most danger and everyone knows I'm the smartest girl in our year."

"I dunno," Harry said, watching Chase and Mike hold Sara back as she tried to attack Crabbe. "Students know that and teachers do, but how would Voldemort know? So far only teachers have been attacked, and the History club leader and I think that's only because the book probably can't hurt ghosts."

"Still," Hermione hissed, firing out a shield at Mortimer, who'd been very close to snatching her ribbon.

"Heelow!" he squeaked, bouncing off his shield and doing a back-flip in the air. He landed next to Sara's bag and proceeded to dig through it in search of her lipgloss, intending to eat it.

Sara fired out a shield and he bounced away, stealing Neville's hat as he went. Eric glanced about the room; everyone seemed able to produce a shield, even if it wasn't very strong. Mortimer swooped down on Robin and stole the red ribbon that marked a hit. Robin, a born actor, proceeded to let out a death cry and perform an over exaggerated demise.

"Score: Mortimer seven, Students: thirteen," announced Eric as Mortimer flew to the ceiling and hugged his teddy bat.

"Let's go to the library after dinner," proposed Hermione as a llama walked by and Eric tried to pull the dead Robin to his feet.

"Why?" sighed Ron, slumping sown into his chair as Mortimer tried to sneak up on Sara's bag. "It never turns up anything!"

However no amount of argument could diverge Hermione from her mission. So after dinner, Ron and Harry dragged themselves up to the library. As usual they said they were doing extra credit work for Eric. The excuse, however, was unnecessary as the Library seemed full of people. Neville was reading three different books at once, taking notes with Rosemary on the other side of the table doing the exact same thing. Harry assumed it was a Herbology club thing as Desdemona was also sitting at a table, reading and taking notes with a Llama standing beside her and off to the left wearing an orange lampshade.

Ginny was also present, sitting at a table with Luna and reading up on astronomy. Sadly, everyone's least favorite git was also studying. Hermione preferred to ignore everyone else as she scanned the shelves. She crawled along, looking at the bottom shelf while trying to ignore Malfoy's constant berating about how often she was on her hands and knees. Then she saw it, a book entitled 'The Secret Journal of Salazar Slytherin.' She beamed proudly and reached out for it, but was stopped by Harry, who grabbed her wrist.

"Don't you think that's a little too easy?" he asked her. "It's got to be some sort of trick."

Hermione pulled her hand back and nodded, rising to her feet. "Let's find out," she said, pulling him after her as she rushed to the librarian. "Excuse me."

The librarian, who had been reading a dictionary sized book, looked up at Hermione and instinctually lifted her finger to her lips and instructed the two teenagers to calm themselves. Harry and Hermione looked to each other with confused stares. The librarian ignored this and slowly she placed a bookmark into her book and shut it with care that some parents don't even reserve for their children. She then folded her hands together and asked quite snippily, (yes, it's a word I assure you.)

"Can I help you?"

"Yes, I was wondering if you could help us find a book called The Secret Journal of Salazar Slytherin."

The librarian clicked her tongue and lowered her glasses so she could peer over them without the annoyance of vision or facial details. "If it's a SECRET Journal then why would it be published?"

"Ah ha!" Harry ah haed.

"What are you ah haing?" Hermione questioned. "That was blatant sarcasm."

"It counts!"

"It does not!"

"Does that book exist?"

The librarian scowled and shook her head, "Not here it doesn't."

"Ah ha!"

"Oh fine, you just live it up."

"Why are you asking stupid questions?"

"Umm… no reason," Hermione and Harry chorused suspiciously before bolting from her sight. They returned to the bookshelf to see another victim! DUH DUH DUNNNN! And it was Draco Malfoy! (Gasp!... No not really but hey I tried.) Harry and Hermione sighed before dragging their feet past a llama and over to the only two available chairs, which were next to Desdemona.

"Oh, hello," she greeted nervously.

"Hi," they chorused back.

"Why aren't you sitting with Neville?" Harry asked, poking open a book on Ancient Egypt.

"Oh, um well they're, I mean Neville and Rosemary, are working on a special project and I-I-I'd just be in the way," Desdemona replied, hiding her face behind a book on using magic in daily chores.

"I thought you and him…" Hermione's voice faded off and she busied herself with straightening up the books on the table.

Desdemona peeked over her book at Hermione, looking confused. "What?"

"Well, it's just that you both seem very friendly towards each other, what with spending so much time in the greenhouses and giving him that study guide and all."

"Yeah, Neville's had the hots for you since day one," stated Ron, seating himself halfway into Hermione's chair and pulling her up onto his lap.

Desdemona blushed furiously before launching back behind her book.

"Seriously!" gasped Hermione, leaning forward to pry the book from Desdemona's hands.

"Uhh…" having nothing to hide behind, Desdemona took hold of her bag and stood up. "I should really be getting back to the common room."

Hermione grabbed one of the bag straps and held tight; though she didn't need any more proof as Desdemona's eyes traveled to Neville, who was staring right back at her and they both immediately looked away, blushing. Hermione released her grip in triumph and Desdemona shot away.

The class climbed the stairs towards the DADA class room. They knew quite well that the door would only appear once everyone was tired because Eric wanted them all to be able to act their best even under stress and exhaustion, that and being out of breath made the Slytherin a lot better to be around and ensured that the class didn't waste energy acting up. When they entered the class room they found that Mortimer was not on the ceiling.

He was, however, at the front of the room on Eric's desk. Though he was lying in a shoe box on a satin pillow with a little cloth blanket. His half-lidded eyes stared at them, bloodshot and miserable. He sneezed and pulled the blanket up higher. Eric entered the room very quietly instead of his usual dramatic entrance. He placed a tinny ice pack on Mortimer's head and a thermometer in his mouth.

"Please take your seats," he requested of the class, his voice softer than usual.

The class very silently took their seats and no one dared to move, all except Goyle who waited for Eric to step away from Mortimer and then yelled,

"Duh what are we learning today, teach?"

Mortimer cringed and covered his very large ears with his wings. The entire class turned to glare at Goyle, but Eric reached him first and glowered threateningly.

"Common courtesy is all I ask of you," he hissed menacingly. "If you can't show that to me, then be warned, I won't show it to you."

Goyle, who was under strict orders from Malfoy shook his head and the fearful look vanished into a sneer. "It's just a flying rat."

Eric ignored him and instead returned to the front of the class room. "Today we are going to discuss-"

"WHAT? SPEAK UP WE CAN'T HEAR YOU!" Crabbe bellowed, Goyle chortling stupidly. A llama spat on him and he stared at it in confusion.

"Yes you can for while my mouth may be moving, I am speaking directly into your minds."

The class ooohhed in great green globs of awe. (Any particular song going through your head?)

"Today I want to discuss a new tactic in Defense Against the Dark Arts," Eric explained, though he stopped moving his mouth halfway though the sentence as if to prove he really was speaking into their minds. A hand shot up. "Yes?"

"How are you doing that?" whispered Mike.

"It's very simple to explain," smiled Eric. "I can send out a telepathic wave throughout the room and that is what you all hear. If I wanted to speak to one student directly, I'd simply have to look at them and concentrate on narrowing the wave to only that person. Now, today I want you all to try and learn something like this. Good friends can look at each other and get a vague idea of what their friend is thinking."

The class nodded in unison and Mortimer sneezed.

"I want you all to be able to do this as in a crisis, you will not be able to huddle up and formulate a plan. Now…. Ms Embers, I'd like you to come up here and try this."

"Crap, we'll be here all day!"

"Mr. Ferociter, if you'd be so kind," snarled Eric.

Chase grinned evilly as he raised his wand and the two goons went pale and sank very low into their seats.

"Now, Ms. Embers," continued Eric. "This technique is designed to calm and focus your thoughts and allow you to react better in battle. Relax, you are safe here among us. Remember that you are safe. Now, turn your back to the class and focus on me."

The class was on the edge of their seats, leaning in to watch. Nothing seemed to be happening though as Desdemona turned towards Eric and wrung out her hands in nervousness.

"I am the villain," said Eric. "Your teammates are behind you. You need to be able to focus and know what they are doing. Can you remember where everyone was sitting?"

"Y-y-y-yes," replied Desdemona, hoping that she could. "I-I think," she added.

"You're an artist, you make a picture with your mind," continued Eric, sensing her discomfort. "Do you know where everyone is in the picture?"

"Y-yes."

"Good." Eric took his eyes off her and looked to Harry. "Get up, move towards her." He instructed so Desdemona couldn't hear. Harry, Chase, and Desdemona were his favorites so call upon. No one thought Desdemona could do anything, Harry was a master, and Chase was very creative in his spells.

"Ok," Eric looked back to Desdemona as Harry stood up. "What's your team doing?"

"Uh-"

"Don't turn around," Eric reminded her quickly.

Desdemona looked into his eyes and tried every thing he's told her to do as she'd walked to the front. She could hear footsteps, but only one pair. She looked at Eric and somehow she knew people were moving and who they were.

"Potter, is coming towards me!" she announced to the applause of the class.

Eric smiled and one by one he called people up. Though the only ones able to accomplish the task were Harry, Chase, and Desdemona, though she didn't get as far as Chase and Harry did. By the end of the week, Harry was able to understand how Dumbledore could fight and simply know what his teammates were doing, it was like there was a silent language that only fighters could hear and he'd tapped into it. The very idea of learning that brightened Harry's month and as Christmas break rolled around he was feeling better than ever. The joy only increased when Harry was pulled aside from the group one night with only two words.

"It's time!"

They rushed toward the greenhouses and into the special section that was being guarded by ominous looking plants that had the ability to puff out and shoot spikes. Neville pulled out two vials and threw them at the plants, which then fell asleep. Neville hurried on and came to an area where Rosemary and Desdemona were waiting, both staring at a plant.

"Nothing yet, Neville," Desdemona reported with a clearly excited smile.

Neville grinned back at her and took a seat directly in front of the purple pod. As Harry sat down he could see that it was moving and glowing slightly. Rosemary had a camera and was sitting next to Neville as he instructed her on visual effects he wanted her to do. Harry moved out of their way and over to Desdemona.

"Uh, hi," he greeted, slightly alarmed to see her smiling and to see the llama out the window behind her, chewing bubble gum.

"Hi," she replied, finally taking her eyes off the pod. "Isn't this exciting?"

"Yeah," Harry smiled. Somehow her enthusiasm drove in the point of how rare and spectacular this would be.

Yet an hour later they were all still sitting there. Rosemary was circling the plant, keeping the pod in focus on the camera while Neville was talking to the plant, saying encouraging things and explaining the world in a comforting voice. Professor Sprout hurried in, shoving the deep vine curtain out of the way as she entered. She beamed at Neville and plopped down on the ground where she began lecturing on the plant. Two hours later and they still sat there; the three garden enthusiasts and the two others who were bored and had run out of things to talk about.

The moon broke through the clouds and moonlight cascaded into the greenhouse, creating an ethereal glow. Neville moved closer to the pod, his excitement spreading to the others. Harry grinned and looked to Desdemona. She was bathed in moonlight and smiling excitedly. As her eyes met his he could see a strange beauty he'd never seen before in her. With her hair shimmering in the light and her face glowing, she didn't look real. Harry smiled back as the event took full hold of him and Professor Sprout stopped talking and instead just gazed in awe.

Then the pod jerked and everyone scrambled to move closer, forming a crescent around the plant. Rosemary was also caught up in the excitement and ran around hugging everyone twice before she leapt back to her camera and began the visual effects Neville had requested. Professor Sprout was beside herself and could no longer be heard as her last sentence faded off and she leaned in, shaking Neville's shoulders supportively.

The pod began to glow as the moonlight soaked into it. Then it simply twisted and turned and seemed to bloom into the most beautiful flower they had ever seen. It looked like a Lily, smelt like Jasmine, yet was full of gorgeous greens, purples, pinks, blues, and yellows. The color came towards them, then the petals gave shape as wings unlike any they had ever seen before and soon a shinning mass of pastel green hair came into view as the fairy emerged from the flower.

The forehead revealed a blue gemstone in the very center, and the skin was fair and smooth. The eyes, though closed, were large and diamond shaped, like those expected of models. Soon the neck appeared and then shoulders. The hair cascaded over the shoulders and fell down the torso as it emerged. The hair went all the way to her ankles as they emerged, followed by perfect little feet.

Rosemary sat herself between Harry and Neville, one hand on the camera and the other giving Neville a supportive hug. The fairy looked like a fragile doll that was being pulled out by a rope that must have come from right where her neck ended and her back started though it caused her no pain as she seemed to simply sleep. A light shone up from the flower, matching the one in the moon and suspended the fairy in midair. There she stayed, tinny white sparkles swimming around her in a slow celebratory dance.

Everyone was filled with an unexplainable joy, as if they'd never be sad again. They looked to each other, smiling in awed joy. Tinny white petals drifted off the plant and floated around the group, who turned this-way-and-that to watch. A small breeze blew through the greenhouse, spreading the smell of Jasmine, vanilla, and peaches. It ruffled through there hair and clothing. Neville took a deep breath and everyone returned their gaze to the fairy, who opened her eyes and stared straight forward at Neville.

The light from the flower faded and Neville brought his hand forward, palm up. The fairy stepped onto his hand as the light from the flower disappeared and she was no longer floating. She was about at tall as a can of soda and her wings would make even the most gorgeous butterfly jealous. Desdemona leaned across Harry and handed a silk handkerchief to Neville. He took it gratefully and draped it around the fairy's shoulders. She smiled and pulled it tightly around herself, escaping the cold breeze.

"Hello," Neville whispered softly.

The fairy tilted her head, then sank to her knees and sat back upon her ankles, still staring up at Neville; she didn't look afraid at all. Professor sprout leaned in and whispered into Neville's ear,

"Give her a name."

Neville could only think of one name to give the fairy, the name of someone he loved with all his heart; the name of the person who gave him courage when he was alone, the name of the person that had been tortured but still had protected him.

"Alice. First name Zaara and second name Alice."

"That's a beautiful name, Neville," smiled Rosemary.

"Wonderful," said Professor Sprout, somehow managing to smile even bigger. "Zaara, beautiful flower.

"It's perfect," said Harry.

"Welcome to the world, Zaara," beamed Desdemona.

"We're so happy you're here," added Neville softly.

The next match was against the Ravenclaw and all the members had been practicing very hard on what Eric had taught them and were almost able to synchronize without telling each other anything; though this took all their free time and most of their sleep time. Neville spent all his free time in the dorm room where he was constantly checking on the fairy. Rosemary had sent in to a custom doll clothes service and had given Zaara a hundred very cute little outfits to wear, having told the company that the doll had wings, there were snap on buttons to allow them.

Neville even had a little bedroom for the fairy, made out of a shelf in his trunk. Zaara didn't seem able to speak, but she did cry a lot. Seamus called it a Siren's song as while the noise was in perfect pitch and beautiful, it came at all hours and usually meant they all had to wake up. Since Neville couldn't very well be seen hauling a doll around school, the day care of the fairy was entrusted to Rosemary as she was the best in her herbology class and seemed to love the fairy, who was like a, infant in her curiosity and knowledge of the world.

Gryffindor won the match against the Ravelclaw, though it had been hard and involved three hours of overtime. Ginny had scored an all-time high on her DADA test and was reporting the highest grade to her parents, Ron and Neville's plant business was blooming (sorry) as almost every student had one and wanted to get more for their family and friends. Hermione was pulling her usual high grades and had even convinced Mike to join S.P.E.W. He now roamed the halls like a mad-man, demanding other people join and had scared a lot of first years into joining.

Though he though the house elves were cool, but thought that they should not be hit or yelled at and only the ones who want payment should get it. Harry was doing well in his potions class as he could visualize Neville's book, as could Neville. Sara was happy because Malfoy was in the hospital wing, though he didn't seem to be as bad as the others. Chase was happy as he wasn't sick and had gotten extra points in transfiguration, giving him the highest grade in the class.

Even Luna was happy as Ginny had convinced everyone to stop calling her loony. Yes, it seemed every thing was going well, even for the random background llamas you probably have been wondering about. That was until the first morning of break.

"Neville's cheating on Desdemona!" Ginny shrieked, throwing herself into the common room.

"What!" Cried Ron, Harry, Hermione, Sara, Mike, and Chase.

"I saw him in the greenhouse with Rosemary, right before they both got on the train!"

"Tramp!" spat Hermione. "Poor Desdemona.

"Damn, that sucks…" said Mike. "Rosemary is so hot."

"You're sure it was Neville?" asked Ron. "I mean, seriously."

"Whore!" Piped Sara. "And that Rosemary is a slut!"

"Neville?" clarified Chase, agreeing with Ron. "Our Neville? Sorry but… how… it doesn't seem right."

"Where's Desdemona?" asked Harry. "Does she know?"

"I saw her in the library…" said Ginny solemnly. "I don't think she knows."

They were all silent, not daring to look at each other. Even at breakfast they were somber and quiet; though that was quickly noticed as most of the students had vacated the presence after hearing that a student was attacked. All that was left at the school was the seven Gryffindor students, Desdemona, and the teachers who had opted to stay. Eric was of course staying, though that news was greatly disturbing Snape. For breakfast The Gryffindor arrived to see again that there was only one table, at which sat Albus, Eric, Minerva, and Severus.

The students gravitated away from the disgruntled potions master, an instead waved a cheery hello to Eric and Mortimer, who was flapping around the hall in a celebratory dance to the Swiss cheese clutched in his foot.

"I thought you weren't negotiating with terrorists," Sara reminded Eric, being the only one gutsy enough to seat herself nearest to Snape, who glared at her in return.

Eric looked over at her looking defeated, though he was smiling and simply explained, "He's feeling better."

"Ah," chorused the students, nodding their heads.

Albus beamed at each of them in his usual fashion, "I imagine our American guests must be feeling rather homesick?"

Mike, Sara, and Chase all stared at him, though their minds drifted towards cheeseburgers, but they were American so they answered, "Nope, nah, not really," and then looked around at nothing. That was until Sara noticed something, "Where are Huraiva and Nadav?"

"I believe they apperated home," Dumbledore smiled. "This is their seventh year after all."

"Oh-"

The left side of the table erupted in laughter that was quickly stifled as they realized Eric was using thought-speak and none of the adults had heard the joke. Eric grinned and leaned back from the position he had been in. Albus beamed over at them, though his sparkle proved conversation would be out-loud from then now on.

"I hope you are enjoying yourselves," Dumbledore continued. "I'm glad your headmaster allowed you to come."

"Yes," piped Hermione. "Barely any of the other Headmaster's would even think of sending students here."

"Well, the head minister said that there was an opportunity to join an exchange program. Now, usually that meant out two schools would meet and-"

"Two?" Ron interrupted. "Why two?"

"Well, Salem's Secret is based in Arizona, hidden in the mountains near Phoenix and of course some of it is located outside the mountain, but there's a hiding charm on it that makes it look simply like a very hard and overly dangerous mountain to climb so non-magics usually stay away." explained Sara, tapping her nails against that table slowly as she did.

"Right, and Revolution is in Pennsylvania," added Mike, eagerly waiting for breakfast to appear before him. "Anyway-"

All conversation between the teenagers stopped as Desdemona entered the hall and took a seat. That was when things got awkward. The only thing anyone could think to do was to say 'Now what?' but they weren't sure who'd entered fourth and since there were four teachers they weren't quite ready to risk it. A llama walked into a bar and got a massive headache; feeling stupid, it gathered up its dime sized bags of cocaine and scurried away wearing a rainbow beanie with dreadlocks sticking out from beneath.

"Good Morning, Desdemona," greeted the Headmaster, smiling warmly.

Desdemona blushed and stared at the table, squeaking out a soft, "Good Morning, Professor."

She looked timidly to her right to see that all the teen girls were staring at her with different looks of pity and the guys were avoiding eye-contact. There was a very, excruciating, over exaggeratedly long and awkward silence while the professors tried to figure out what in Merlin's name had happened, all except Snape who didn't give a llama's ass.

"Food!" Mike cheered thankfully as great piles of breakfast began appearing on the serving plates.

"Dig in everyone," instructed the Headmaster, though it seemed pointless as Mike had all but launched himself directly into the food and Mortimer was flying around Eric's head, catching food as the teens threw it to him.

"Who's going to tell her?" whispered Ginny, tossing up a blueberry.

"There's only one way I can think of to decide…. One two three, not it," Mike replied quickly, shoveling scrambled eggs and cinnamon sugar into his mouth.

"That's juvenile!" Hermione hissed.

"Not it!" said Chase.

"Not it," said Ron and Harry, tying with Sara.

"Not it!" declared Ginny. "You tell her, Hermione."

"… No," replied Hermione as if pouting.

Professor Trelawney arrived, looking rather insect like and strode in looking important and dramatic. Though the only ones looking at her were the Americans because they'd never seen her and thus did not know to run for their lives.

"Ah, this is a treat!" Dumbledore smiled, ignoring the fact that the students were crossing themselves and had just thrown salt over their shoulders.

"Oh yeah, she had another premonition," mumbled Harry. "Something about a curse active this year."

Dumbledore simply smiled and said, "Not dangerous I hope."

"Not really."

"I was gazing in my crystal ball and saw that I should join you all, and who am I to disagree with the beyond," explained the dragonfly.

"That's good to here Sybil, have a seat," invited Albus.

"Crisis mode people," Minerva muttered. "Everyone just start running around the table, maybe she can't count us if we move."

Snickers began, but soon they realized she was serious and grudgingly began to get up. Though it was too late.

"Over exaggerated GASP!" Sybil clutched her chest and struck a pose. "I dare not join you, for then we will be thirteen and-"

Minerva, who had been miming the actions interrupted loudly, "Yes, yes, we've been through it all before. Now have a seat, the food is getting cold."

Sybil snuck forward like she expected to burst into flames; she then sat timidly upon the seat and stared across at Desdemona. "Child!" she gasped, though her eyes did that fluttery thing that only a real premonition could foretell. "I fear a terribly awful event has happened and you have yet to hear about it. Someone here shall inform you soon."

The Gryffindor students all moaned and sank low into the bench while Desdemona looked morbidly terrified. Trelawney blinked and stared forward as if wondering what was wrong. She decided her very presence was intimidating the girl, and thus smiled, making it worse, and began loading up her plate. She then looked up and stared at Snape.

"Ah, I sense you have met the one you are destined to fall in love with," she stated, marveling at her wisdom.

The teenagers and Eric snorted out a quick laugh, which they quickly stifled, though Eric grinned boldly.

"Sadly though, that person will not be with us long," continued Trelawney, tipping bacon onto her plate and wiping the smiles off the teenagers and Eric and instead forming one on Snape. "And who are you?" she asked Mike.

"Yoda, my name is," said Mike, doing a perfect impression.

"Ah, Master Yoda," Eric bowed. "Tell us of your infinite wisdom."

"Infinite, my wisdom is," nodded Mike.

"Ah," smiled Eric.

"See the force, I can," continued Mike. "Form a proper sentence, I cannot."

"And you?" Sybil asked Chase.

"Bond… James Bond."

"Yes, I have foreseen your coming," nodded Sybil, making no one doubt that she wasn't really paying attention. "And you?" she asked Sara.

"You're not one for pop culture, are you?" Sara asked. "Any why are you asking our names, shouldn't you already know them, Professor?"

"Pop culture. Of course not," Sybil replied snippily. "And I feel introductions, while unnecessary, help people relax in my company."

"Maybe, Sybil, if you refrained from telling people about their doom the ice would be easier to break," said Minerva curtly.

"My name is Paris Hilton, I am a rich brat," Sara grinned evilly.

"And you?" Sybil asked Desdemona, ignoring Sara.

"Her name is Julia Roberts," Sara stated proudly as Desdemona was still a bit freaked out.

"Well, hello, I am Professor Trelawney."

"… Hi," said Sara.

Dumbledore asked each person their plans for the day before excusing everyone. No one moved, not wanting to be victim to Sybil. They all stared at each other, urging certain members to leave, then with Eric advising them so, Harry, Desdemona, and Chase erupted from their seats.

"STOP!" Sybil cried, staring at the four of them. "Which one of you left you seat first?"

"Well, that would be me," announced Eric. "And since technically I'm already dead I feel I'm in no danger."

Sybil stared at him in disgust and turned her attention towards the teenagers. One was waiting not to care, one was curious but doubtful, and one was cringing in fear. "I saw these three get up before you, but I didn't see who was first," the dragonfly announced, her eyes scanning Desdemona as she looked to be the one ready to cry.

"Eric, dear, would you mind popping into the hall and checking for an axe murdered?" Minerva requested curtly.

Sybil looked upon her with a half-lidded glare, though admittedly they were getting along better after last years events. Yet now, Minerva was inches away from asking if Firenze was adapting well to his new teaching position.

"If you tell me which one of you left your seat first it may be possible for me to see the circumstances under which the poor dear shall meet an end… maybe we can help her… or him… avoid such a tragedy."

"I'd love to stay and do that, but I'm working on an extra credit assignment called bolt," stated Chase.

"Bolt?" asked Eric in mock confusion.

"As you wish," and with that the three teenagers fled from the room at maximum speed. When they reached the hall they continued onward, figuring that if death really was coming it would at least have trouble catching them. When the finally stopped, panting and out of breath, Chase Looked to Harry and took a very deep breath. Then another one which he used to say,

"Not it."

For a few brief seconds, Harry was greatly confused. Then he looked to the panting Desdemona and said,

"Crap… Rock Paper Scissors?"

"No!" hissed Chase.

Harry sighed and turned to Desdemona, who had caught her breath and sadly spoke first. There was fear in her voice and she clasped her sketchbook nervously.

"What do you think Professor Trelawney meant when she said I wasn't aware that something terrible has happened but someone was going to tell me?"

"Errr," both boys looked away and bit their lips.

Desdemona didn't think this was a good sign at all and debated if she should leave or stay to hear the news. She turned away from them and peered out the window, hoping the sun would go back down and the day would start over. Behind her, the two boys had a silent, but furious battle over who would have to tell her. They battled their opinions in silent fury and violent gestures which eventually lead to Rock, Paper, Scissors. The match lasted until Harry lost for the fourth time and Chase said that was enough.

Harry sighed and approached Desdemona, but gave up on that as he saw how nervously she was clutching her sketchbook, and launched back into combat with Chase. He eventually lost again and scrapped himself off the floor, glaring at Chase. When Desdemona turned around they were both standing there innocently as if bewildered by her presence. Then Harry took a deep breath and said,

"Um, Desdemona… WE need to tell you something."

"Sunova…" he heard Chase whispered so only Harry could hear.

"It's about you and Neville," began Harry as Chase snapped into his more feminine, caring side.

"Yeah, see we hate to have to tell you this, but you gotta know," he stated, coming up beside her and placing his hand very supportively on her shoulder.

"Ginny was in the greenhouse this morning because she wanted to see if Zaara was awake yet," Harry explained quickly.

"She said Rosemary and Neville were… uhh…" Chase faded off.

"Making out," Harry filled in. "We're sorry," he added quickly.

They waited for the inevitable outburst of tears and for Desdemona to crumple into a fetal position and sob. Yet the doom ridden look upon her face dissolved an she said,

"Oh, is that it?"

Both boys stared at her. They didn't understand girls but they expected more than that. Especially as she seemed to be such a fragile little thing.

"We'll kill him for you, of course!" promised Chase.

"No, no!" protested Desdemona. "It's alright."

"All… what?" asked Harry, bewildered.

"Look, he's a cheating rat and well kill him if you want… in fact, let's got send him a howler," prompted Chase with Harry nodding in agreement.

"No!" Desdemona grabbed his elbow as he tried to march off, though there was something of a smile on her face.

"Woman, you're driving me insane, what's going on?" demanded Chase as Desdemona started to laugh.

"He's not cheating on me," she stated, her hand covering her mouth though they could tell she was smiling.

Both Harry and Chase stared at her, wondering when exactly she'd slipped into denial… and if she'd ever leave it, though they hoped it was around other girls and not them.

"Ginny saw him," Harry reminded her. "With Rosemary."

Desdemona nodded and uttered something they never thought they'd ever hear,

"He's been dating her since the start of term. Apparently she's had a crush on him for a while and facing Voldemort won her over… Guys, Neville's not even a virgin."

There was silence. The kind of silence you'd expect after a miracle of God… or someone's head exploding off their shoulders like… KUPOW! There goes the head… Yeah… I really do need counseling. But anyway. Harry felt his eyes twitch and said,

"But… he's been giving you Herbology lessons and helping you with the club and you both seemed so close."

"I caught him with Rosemary on patrol one night," explained Desdemona. "I said I wouldn't tell, but he wanted to make sure I didn't say anything so he offered to help however he could. He's good at Herbology. Rosemary likes me just fine so there wasn't ever a reason for us not to get along."

"That explains so much," said Harry, his face crinkling as he remembered all the strange things he should have caught.

"And yet is so amazingly unbelievable," nodded Chase, obviously stunned.

Desdemona smiled and, though shocked, the two boys had a good laugh. Together they headed back to the main hall to see what was taking the others so long. Then Harry had a thought.

"So if that's not a problem for you, what did Trelawney mean?"

Desdemona shrugged and smiled, deciding not to care and just happy she didn't have to be the soul bearer of such a scandalous secret anymore. That was until they opened the door to the great hall and saw Fudge. The teenagers were huddled together, some with tears in their eyes as they looked over, and every one of the teachers looked solemn. Even Mortimer looked depressed.

Albus held a letter in his hand and looked up as time slowed down in ominous waves. Yet even before his eyes reached her, Desdemona gasped in a shuddering breath. The Headmaster's sad eyes met hers just before Fudge's did. Harry looked to his friends, all of whom cringed and shook their heads. Something terrible had happened.

"Miss Embers," Cornelius began. "The Ministry is very, sorry to have to tell you that-"

"Desdemona, could you come with me?" The headmaster interrupted, stepping forward with a gentle sparkle in his eyes.

"Uh, actually I was going to um…" began Desdemona, obviously shaken. "I've got a test later and…"

"It's alright," said Albus. "Please."

"O-o-okay, b-b-but…." Her lips were trembling and Harry put his hand on her back.

She looked at him and he gave her a supportive look. "Go with him," he instructed.

She bit her lip and nodded, following the Headmaster out of the room. Fudge moved to follow, but Eric blocked him and shook his head.

"I think the Minister of Magic had other duties to attend to," he stated. "Let Dumbledore tell her."

"But I need to ask her a few questions-"

"Go back to the Ministry," Eric snarled, exposing his sharp and deadly fangs.

Harry crossed over to Ron and Hermione.

"What's going on?" he asked.

"Oh it's horrible, Harry," cried Hermione. "Voldemort… he's killed her parents."


	8. Desdemona!

Chapter 8

Hey guys, and girls! Thank you for reading, I appreciate it! Thanks even more for reviewing! You guys make my week! With that said, on with the fic!

Desdemona followed Albus out onto the grounds. She clutched the letter in her hands, though he found herself unable to stop reading it. Her eyes scanned the page for some kind of error that would prove the letter to be false. She stared at the signature, maybe it was fake. Yes, yes that was it. The letter was fake, and this was just a cruel joke. Then again, it had been personally delivered by the minister of magic so it had to be real, didn't it?

"Is there anyone I can contact for you?" Dumbledore asked, stopping to sit on a bench.

Desdemona reread the letter. Grandmother dead, grandfather dead. Her step-siblings, dead! Their families, dead! Killed. Murdered. Slaughtered! She had… no one. No one would take her in! Her eyes watered and grew wide as she realized that there was no one to call.

"N-n-n-n-no…" she stuttered.

Albus watched empathetically. Desdemona looked defeated, as if she was moments away from tuning into snowflakes of frozen tears and blowing away. Dumbledore's base reason for fighting Voldemort was because Tom was a mistake he'd made. Though the reason he kept fighting was to get vengeance for the victims like Desdemona, who had no crime yet paid the ultimate price.

"It's all my fault," Desdemona whispered, tears streaming down her eyes as she collapsed into the bench and hugged her backpack tightly.

"No, Voldemort kills because he is evil," said Dumbledore, shaking his head. "He kills anyone he thinks is below him or that makes him mad. He kills because long ago he chose the Dark Side."

"But why?" whimpered Desdemona. "Why would he do this?" she stared up at Dumbledore with wide, tear filled eyes that begged for an explanation.

"I suppose we cannot expect much else of one so full of hatred," sighed Dumbledore, his face weakening and seeming older. "He could be a worthy fighter, a legend. Yet he chose a different path and became the vile snake that brought about this horrible tragedy."

"I should have been there!" Desdemona cried, turning away from him suddenly and fiercely. "I could have been with them… Oh my Gosh! I could have been with them!"

"It's not your fault!" said Albus, grasping her shoulders and turning her back towards him. "You did nothing wrong!"

"But what do I do now?" Desdemona shuddered, her voice breaking with the sound of the deepest kind of regret. "They're gone. I don't understand it! Why them? And… And what do I do? I don't have any money and…"

"Don't worry, it'll be alright," claimed Dumbledore, petting her hair.

Desdemona only whimpered in response and her hands clasped her backpack, the top slipping down to reveal her sketchbook. Dumbledore smiled gently.

"Minerva tells me you're quite the artist," he spoke softly. Knowing from experience that the best thing to do was get her mind focused on something good. He knew she probably felt alone, scared, angry, guilty and confused. "I'm sure we can set up a scholarship for you if you'll help out with the art around the school, repair some of the paintings and such."

Desdemona looked up at him; her eyes said, 'it won't bring them back.' He nodded that he understood that and let a silence filter around them before speaking again.

"It's not your fault, Desdemona. It is not your fault. Voldemort is an evil man with a twisted soul not worthy of this earth. But your grandparents must have been proud of you. You have exceptional talent. Might I see your book? Minerva has been raving about it."

Desdemona stared at the book. "Proud of what?" she asked. "Drawings can't save people."

"You're going to tell?" Ron asked for the hundredth time. "We'll get in trouble!"

"It doesn't matter," snapped Harry. "We can tell someone in the order that we found a book on it or something. The point is that he's killed someone, probably using the knowledge he's gained from the teachers as why else would he be gathering it. And it's time we told someone what we know."

"Let's tell Eric," prompted Sara.

"What's the order?" asked Mike.

Harry, Hermione, and Ron (sounds like a law office, no? Call Harry, Hermione, and Ron, attorney at law.) stared at them for a while.

"Tell," Chase commanded, his shocking blue eyes piercing though them.

'Err," Hermione side-glanced Harry, who shrugged and said,

"An illegal defense group against Voldemort, run by Albus Dumbledore and operated in secret in Sirius Black's old manor."

"Wow, I woulda lied or something," grinned Mike, nodding his head and laughing.

"Me too," nodded Sara, turning to look at Mike.

"Okay, who's in it?" Chase asked, not easing up on his stare.

"Why are you reporting it?" Ron asked, glaring at him.

"…Nah," said Chase, pretending to toss a quill and paper over his shoulder.

"Good, cause they'd hafta kill us if we told," smiled Sara, obviously enjoying this. "I swear to secrecy."

"I swear to secrecy," chorused Chase and Mike, raising their right hands like boy scouts.

"Good, now let's find Minerva and tell her what we've found out," said Harry, already hurrying down the hall.

"Few, I was worried you were going to say the bitter old cod, Snape, was a member," smiled Mike as if the idea was stupid and laughed.

Harry, Ron and Hermione attorney at law stared at him uncomfortably, before rushing down the hall in search of Minerva.

"Crap," sighed Mike, running after them with Chase and Sara at his heels. They ran into Minerva, literally, and began telling everything. Each member had their say until the whole seven chapter story was confessed. Well… some of it. A better half of it was… tweaked a bit to save them from getting expelled.

"How do you know all this?" Minerva asked.

"What Llama!" yelled Ron, on the defensive.

All the other teenagers cringed and groaned.

Minerva raised an eyebrow, but then just shook her head. "Can't this be discussed later? The headmaster has his full attention on a different matter at the moment."

"I'm not saying we should ignore Embers," clarified Harry, thickly. "I just think it's odd that a pure blood family was attacked."

"How do you know they're pure blood?" asked Minerva, furrowing her brow as she pondered if Harry had been rude enough to start asking people.

"The chart on Sirius's wall shows the Draco family, the Weasley family, and the Embers family," explained Harry without patience. "For all we know, Voldemort's spy will go after her next."

"But she is with Dumbledore," Minerva reminded them, though that wasn't necessary as they already knew that.

Hermione lost the last of her patience. She felt that what they had revealed should be acted upon immediately. Her mind raced with thoughts of what might have happened if they discovered all those things from previous years sooner. They probably would have been ignored. She shoved Mike out of her way and spoke in an important and annoyed tone.

"The spy could be in the school right now! You said Dumbledore had all his attention consumed, so wouldn't that be the perfect chance to strike? And if he doesn't know about the book then he is in danger as well!"

"What do you want me to do?" Minerva snapped. "Run down to the grounds and burst into a speech? I don't think you are all grasping what has happened to day? That poor little girl just lost everything! She's an orphan with nowhere to go. The minister will be back in a few days to discuss her even being allowed to continue school here!"

"We know that!" Hermione proclaimed. "She's an extremely nice girl who didn't deserve what happened, but at least she wasn't killed! If we don't handle this spy thing before the rest of the school comes back then we loose our only opportunity. Professor, we need to search the school. Now."

Minerva sighed and stared at the group. "I see you've involved our American guests."

"Funny story actually, we've been working on this just as long as they have and we've only recently teamed up," smiled Mike, pushing his way past Hermione again.

"Just what we needed," mumbled Minerva. "Another group of three that can't let things be."

"Hehe, rhymed," snickered Mike.

"In all respect, Ma'am," began Sara. "As the first victim, I assumed you'd really want to catch whoever attacked you and keep it from happening to anyone else."

Minerva sighed, "Fine. You can search, but if you split into your separate groups you must have a professor with you, okay?"

"Fine-"

"Not fine, one group has to get Snape," interrupted Sara. "Either him or Trelawney."

"Where is Trelawney?' asked Harry, receiving a smack up the back of his head by Minerva.

"I can't use any good spells yet so you have Eric and Severus to help you and that's that," she stated.

The teens watched her march down the hall and then looked towards each other. They knew they were thinking the same thing, who gets stuck with Snape? Though they doubted he would help even if they did ask. Through furious games of rock paper scissors, endless loads of treachery, bribery, and actual fights, they came out equal and no one could think of a way to solve the problem.

Ron was the first to speak. "Well now w-"

"Don't!" chorused everyone in a paranoid fashion.

Mike threw up his arms in frustration, "Who gets stuck with him?"

"Stuck with who?" hissed a very greasy voice, loaded with ego and dominance.

No one was really surprised to hear it as they'd learned to expect it, though you couldn't have cut the annoyance with a knife. You would need a chainsaw or something, like the thing that cuts through concrete. Slowly they turned towards him, making it perfectly obvious that they were annoyed.

"What?" Harry asked, sounding tired.

"Stuck with who?" Snape repeated, making it clear that he knew they were talking about him, but then-

"Mortimer," they all chorused, wanting greatly to congratulate each other as they realized the replies matched.

Snape froze mid-snob. The look on his face was one of someone about to mock and ridicule as they were _so_ superior, though it twitched with discomfort. The look was frozen, like it was waiting for a reason to be used. This was the happiest moment of the year in Harry's opinion. Snape was speechless, he satisfied himself with giving them a suspicious glare and trudging past them.

"Now wh-"

"Stop that!"

Dumbledore coaxed Desdemona into handing over her sketch book and opened it. The drawings he saw expressed a lot of time and effort. He could just see her sitting alone all the time with no one to talk to and nothing to do except envelope herself in an imaginary world of the pictures she drew. There were even pictures of the students, not exactly how they looked in real life, more of how Desdemona saw them. Dumbledore reached the one of Severus sticking out a very snake-like tongue and Desdemona cringed so he decided to chuckle softly and continue on. She saw the world through eyes that did not seem to judge anyone by the color of their skin, the religion the practiced, their political viewpoint, sexual preference, but rather by the content of their character.

Albus began feeling dizzy as he looked through the pages, an odd weightlessness in his forehead. He watched a tear fall from Desdemona's eyes and splatter against the marble bench as he looked to her, yet it made a loud sound as it hit. He saw her lips twitch and a sob erupted from her, but he couldn't hear it. He continued through the book, hoping that compliments would help to ease her suffering. He was aware of a tranquil emotion burning within him so that he no longer reacted to the crying student. There was a calming voice whispering for him to tell all he knew. Albus shook his head and jumped back into his usual alert self. He threw the book down, knowing something was wrong.

His gaze shot to Desdemona, whose sobs had turned to distinct laughter. She looked up, sneering wickedly, and dove for the book. Her greedy hands snatched it before Dumbledore could and they both drew their wands. Dumbledore meant to fire the book away, but as the girl faced him, he knew there would be a fight. The fight should have been simple, but he found himself feeling ill and having a hard time just staying up. Eventually he couldn't even do that and dropped to the ground, feeling weak and old. Desdemona stalked closer, the book glowing and whispering of spells to use.

Dumbledore pointed his wand to fire, but the book shone brighter and pulled his wand away. Wandless, Dumbledore could only watch and wait as the girl raised her hand into the air for a final strike. Yet no spell ever came as Hagrid charged from his cabin and snatched the girl's wrist. She twisted and squirmed to get free, but he held her tight.

"Rigitigimor- ahhh!" she tried to cast a spell and Hagrid tightened his grip.

He could hear the bones in her wrist groaning in protest, ready to snap. Yet still she held on, teeth clenched tightly. He squeezed tighter, and with a scream of pain she was forced to release her wand. Hagrid grabbed it and threw the girl to the ground to whimper and clutch her hand. Hagrid knelt next to Dumbledore, and pulled him to his feet.

"Hagrid, get the book away from her!" instructed Dumbledore urgently.

Desdemona jumped to her feet as Hagrid reached for her, and transfigured into a fierce snow leopard… … kitten. An oddly small, tinny, minute snow leopard kitten with Desdemona's eyes, a long poofy tail, and a crescent shaped spot on its forehead that matched the charm on the tiara that Desdemona always wore, though it was usually covered by hair. The kitten stood protectively over the book, which began to glow. Albus seized Hagrid's umbrella and blasted the cat off before she could draw the wands back. Desdemona landed behind the book and lay motionless and unconscious.

"What wers tha' abou'?" asked Hagrid, staring at the kitten.

"To be honest I'm not entirely sure," admitted Dumbledore. "Don't touch the book, I'll levitate it."

Hagrid crouched down and grabbed the kitten by the scruff of the neck before turning and following Dumbledore into the castle.

Albus explained everything to the order members, including Eric who'd joined the order when he signed up to teach at Hogwarts. He also explained it to the seven teenagers, who were still very confused and spent the entire time staring blankly at the kitten. The entire thing was laid out and discussed.

"Was Voldemort controlling her somehow?" asked Ginny, not ready to believe that Desdemona had been the one terrorizing the school.

"I doubt it," said Snape. "Why kill her parents if she's his spy? Such an emotional thing can break through a long distance possession."

"Please," squeaked out Hermione. "The legends and rumors we could gather about the book say that it draws its power from its user and victims. It has its own power, but none of the legends mention much about that."

"So she found the book and learned what it did and decided it would be useful," said Minerva, clearly irritated. "Makes sense, a failing student will do stupid things to raise their grades."

"But Ms. Embers was a bright girl," said Eric. "Got top marks in my class and I never touched that book."

"Well that would have a lot to do with the way you teach your class," hissed Snape.

"What's that, love?" asked Eric, turning towards Snape as if he hadn't heard him.

Snape twitched in response and looked to be trying to make Eric blow up with his mind.

"Um… it's really uncomfortable in here," stated Mike, who was smashed in between the two teachers. "Couldn't we move to a bigger room?"

"Please," added Sara, who was crunched up near Snape, but recoiling enough so that she didn't have to touch him, as was Mike on Snape's other side.

It was true; the tinny nurse's office was nowhere near the perfect place for twelve people to argue. Yet there they were, all cramped around a desk which had the sleeping kitty on one end and the book on the other.

"Maybe she is a Death Eater's kid," proposed Ron.

"No, Malfoy hates her," said Hermione. "If anything she tried to join Voldemort, and he gave her the book. She makes a perfect spy- I mean who'd suspect her?"

"Then why kill her parents?" asked Harry.

"Well I don't know. She was willing to attack Dumbledore, maybe it was part of the deal."

"She didn' seem really tha' depressed abou' it," nodded Hagrid. "She were laughin'"

"Then she should be expelled, maybe even sent to Azkaban!" ranted Minerva. "The girl is evil!"

With a soft mew, the kitten opened her eyes, which became very wide as she looked around and tried to hide behind a flower vase.

"Ah, finally awake," greeted Minerva, moving the vase.

"Harry, maybe you and your friends could step out as the punishment is really not your decision," requested Dumbledore.

Harry nodded, and then looked at the door. No one could get out the doorway as there wasn't any room.

"Errr… how are we supposed to leave?"

"Hagrid, can't you move a bit?" asked Hermione.

Hagrid leaned left and right, though as he did, Sara and Albus were pressed tightly the wall. "Nope."

"Well then how do we-?"

Eric poofed out of the room and Mike crashed through the empty space and into Chase, who fell towards Harry, who dodged, but tripped over Ron's foot and went down. Ron fell, though no one was sure why, into Hermione, now they know why, who wasn't very pleased with where he grabbed her and backed into Minerva, who stepped on Ginny's foot, who let out a wail and knocked into Albus, who pushed Sara, who clawed the walls in an attempt not to touch Snape and thus knocked Hagrid down, who fell onto Snape.

"Ouch," moaned Chase from beneath Mike and Harry.

"Somebody's touching me!" yelled Ginny.

"Somebody's crushing me!" groaned Minerva.

"Get your hand off my butt!" demanded Sara, slapping at the hand. "Whose hand is that!"

"Don't hit me!" snarled Snape.

Sara whimpered audibly and her spine shuddered.

"I can't feel my spleen," whimpered Mike.

"Don't worry, I can," sighed Chase, drumming his fingers on the floor and hoping his back didn't snap. He was stuck in a position he felt he needed a cigarette for and was balancing between extreme embarrassment and overwhelming irony.

"Can anyone get up?" asked Dumbledore, pinned against the wall.

"Ron, move your hand!"

"Why? We're dating."

"We're going to be married if you don't move!"

"I'd like to say the same thing to you two," groaned Chase to Mike and Harry.

"What do you want me to do, I can barely move?" said Mike.

"Stop rocking, that'll help a lot!" snapped Chase.

"Well now wh-"

"SHUT UP!" screamed the teenagers.

"Eric!'

"It's not my fault," said Eric, looking at them through the doorway.

He seized Ginny and began pulling her out. Desdemona, however, looked about the room and made a decision. The book shone, rose into the air and drifted towards the door. Desdemona jumped down onto Minerva, who tried to grab her, but was pinned. Desdemona crawled over, through, and under the mess of bodies, finally climbing onto Ginny and jumping out the doorway. Eric moved to grab her and missed as she shot by, the book following; he poofed to the other end of the room and dove down just in time to grab her.

"You're a fast little shit, aren't you?" grinned Eric, holding the kitten up like a trophy to the mass of people too tangled up to applaud… or care.

"No, I'm constipated," mumbled Flitch, who had inhaled a bit too many cleaning fumes recently. "I'm a slow shit."

"… Okay… ew," said Eric. "That was… _special_ in its own disgusting way, I'm sure."

He shook his head and dodged as the book came hurdling towards him. Looking to the kitten, he poofed away then poofed back a few seconds later, one kitten lighter, and pulled Ginny out. Once everyone was free, Sara ran up to the common room yelling "Ew, ew, eww, eeww!" desperate for a shower.

"Let's never speak of that," said Harry to Chase and Mike, who both nodded and decided that Sara's shower idea was a great one.

"Speak of what?" Ron called after them.

Hermione giggled maliciously and smiled at Ron, who was all ears as, being in such a large family he knew when good information was about to be revealed.

"Do we have a plan?" Minerva asked.

"We need to turn her back in order to question her," stated Snape, peering in on the kitten, who was currently residing in Mortimer's travel cage.

Minerva sighed. "That's a problem."

"Why?"

"Because she knows how to transfigure, but it takes months of physical conditioning, emotional training, and slow practice to be able to change," explained Minerva. "Especially when no one in your family has ever done it and you're not being trained by a professional. If we force change her then her muscles will be torn apart."

"So what do we do?" Hagrid asked, watching Mortimer, who was on the ceiling dancing with his teddy bat.

"We must find out how to destroy that book," stated Dumbledore, his gaze on the book strapped to the desk. "Try one theory at a time. If she's possessed, destroying the book will take away her weapon and purpose so she'll probably be released. Then we'll concentrate on changing her back."

"Why change her back? It's Azkaban or a bat cage," Minerva grumbled, glaring in at the kitten. "I'd choose the bat cage."

"Ye thin' they'd senda minor ta Azkaban?" asked Hagrid, finally directing his gaze away from Mortimer.

"No of course not, they'll just slap her on the wrist and let her go," slimed Snape, shooting Hagrid a look.

"Well, they can't just take her wand and exile her from the wizarding community, not if she's Voldemort's little spy," reasoned Minerva. "So I assume it'll be off to Azkaban."

Inside the cage, Desdemona shivered and cried. A twisty tie wrapped around the door of the cage was all that confined her, yet it was enough. She could only cower and listen to their threats. She wondered what the outcome would be. If she was to spend the rest of her life in a cramped little iron cage that smelt of bat and lemon cleaner, or if Dementors would be coming to throw her into Azkaban where she wasn't sure what would happen or what she would face.

They argued and talked, brought books from the library and consulted previous headmasters for hours on end. Finally giving into arguing which is really the only way to solve anything. Yet a conclusion was hard to reach. One thing, though, they could all agree on. The book had to be destroyed, and Desdemona had to be questioned.

"Eric," Dumbledore spoke, ending a vicious argument between Minerva and Severus. "You have been silent all this time. Might I inquire your opinion?"

"I don't believe it," Eric replied softly from his place beside the window, nearly hidden in the shadows. "You say this girl is evil, and while I agree that her innocence would be a perfect cover, it was too real to fake. She had moments, though few and far between, where she showed herself to be strong, but I cannot agree with Severus that they were her act slipping. Minerva, look back to that day, was there malicious intent?"

"Of course," Minerva replied, exchanging a look with Severus. "She… well she… she dropped that book right in front of me."

"Yes, but isn't she always dropping books?"

"A cover," hissed Severus, as if trying to make them understand how stupid this was. The girl was guilty.

"How sure are you?" Eric asked. "I mean, seriously. The least we can do is attempt to find a safe way to change her back and then question her about it… before condemning her."

"There is no excuse for the other ATTACKS," Snape growled lowly, his eyes narrowing into triangles as his eyebrows arched.

Dumbledore listened with his fingers linked and a deeply contemplative look upon his face. There was a lot to consider. There was the death of Desdemona's parents, the attacks; the ferocity in Desdemona's attack against Albus, the llama's playing chess on the north stairwell. Severus, Minerva, Eric, and Hagrid continued their bickering, ignoring the bat that was swooping low and lower above their heads. When the arguing finally stopped, though mostly because the combatants had sore throats, Dumbledore spoke,

"First things first, let's just change the girl back, shall we?"

"How?" McGonagall asked; her voice frog-like and horse… and llama-ish.

Albus looked to Severus with half-lidded eyes and a patient stare. Snape crossed his arms and pouted, refusing to offer any help. Albus waited for what he thought was an appropriate time limit, before turning to Eric.

"Maybe you, as our Defense instructor, can team up with our potions master and devise a way to change Ms. Embers back into herself," his gaze traveled to Severus. "I warn you, it may take several days."

Eric caught on and grinned boldly at Severus. "That'll be oodles of fun!" he chirped. "Come Mortimer, Sevy, to the library!"

Severus Snape glared at the vampire, in a way that nearly forced him to burst into flames and die a very unpleasant death. Though his position in the argument was to inform the ministry at once and let them deal with the kitten, and he wasn't ready to budge, no, he was sick of every single year involving them all to get caught up in something that was someone else's job.

Guarding the Sorcerer's Stone, dealing with possessed students and their pet snakes, catching Severus Black, hosting the Tri-Wizard tournament, fighting solely alone against Voldemort and his death eaters. Well enough was enough! The ministry could handle Embers! They'd change her back, question her, and then throw her in Azkaban like good little ministers, all without messing up the Hogwarts school year or wasting his time. So, if he delayed them changing her back, it gave him time to urge Albus into listening.

"Fine," he said in a greasy, bored tone of voice before walking past them all.

Everyone was stunned into silence. Even Mortimer had trouble staying in the air. Albus knew Snape was playing the game, Minerva hoped he was playing the game… for Eric's sake, Hagrid was disturbed, Desdemona didn't give a damn, and the llama just wasn't expecting that at all and nearly choked on his lollipop. Pop. He proceeded to cry and ran out the door.

"Come on, Eric, we can go to my office," Snape added, setting his hand on Eric's shoulder.

Eric shivered as soon as the hand left him and tried very hard not to vomit. Two could play this game, he decided. So, with Albus and Minerva, and Hagrid all cheering him on supportively like demented cheerleaders or mother's of 35-year-old daughters who still weren't married, Eric used his most suggestive voice and said,

"You light some candles, I'll grab a bottle of wine and meet you down there," he then added a coy giggle and told Mortimer that it would be best for him to stay with Hagrid for the night.

"W-why?" Severus asked; several shades paler than what was thought to be humanly possible.

Eric did the laugh again and rushed past him looking giddy and muttering about what to wear. Snape stayed where he was. He had thought that he'd cracked the code and the homosexual vampire was merely toying with him, but now he wasn't willing to risk it. Albus pretended to have no opinion about what had just happened, leaving Minerva and Hagrid to whisper about how they thought Eric could find someone better.

"There is a potion we can use," Snape grumbled out through clenched teeth.

"Well, dear I think it would have been better to mention that before Eric got so excited about…" Albus stopped as if just then realizing that it was odd for a person to get excited about research. He smiled a small smile and his eyes twinkled in his usual expression of 'I'm ignoring it… all of it.'

"I'll go get started on it," Snape purred murderously.

Snape confined himself to his office after bolting the door shut and a very strong garlic fragrance billowed out through the key hole. Hermione figured he's made an enhancing potion and dumped every piece of garlic he could find into it. The teenagers were able to bribe their favorite teacher into an act that skimmed off the top of their boiling pot of the lust for revenge. Eric put on a poet's top, (which is the shirt you see Fabio wearing on most grocery store Romance novel covers) tight black leather pants, his usual cape, and grabbed up a bottle of champagne.

He poofed into Snape's office and out again a few minutes later only to burst into laughter. Along with the garlic smell, a very strong light shone up from the dungeon after that and they all recognized it as UV light. That made everyone's day. The potion master seemed convinced that at any moment a horny vampire was going to assault him. He stayed locked in his office all of that day and the next. The teenagers were beginning to enjoy life without Snape and marveled at their ability to talk without worry that he was just around the corner.

They ate meals without being glared at. Lounged around with no one barking out insults. They even played Quidditch through the halls with no one stopping them, except Eric who demanded they let him play too. Yes, things were good, life was sweet, and Harry was sure that Sirius was somewhere laughing his ass off. Desdemona was moved into the infirmary, still in her little cage, but as it was the one place where a person was stationed 24 hours a day, it was the only place to put her.

Minerva was a bit worried about putting her in a room where her victims were trying to recover, but Albus simply said that all evil must face its crime. Malfoy was there biggest problem. He was up and back to his usual snobbish self again, but seemed too out of it to demand that they call his father, who was too busy with Death Eater meetings to notice that his son was missing without a letter telling him so.

Yet, Harry and crew had no need to concern themselves with the Slytherin brat, they had more important things to do like stare at a wall and think of what spiders did all day, or chill with the llamas having a party in the room of requirements. Yes, they did baking at 4:20. Though Hermione showed up with brownies, actual brownies, and ruined the mood. Then came dinner.

"…Is it just me or does everything suddenly taste like garlic?" Mike asked suspiciously. Chewing his food very slowly and examining his fork.

"Crap," groaned Harry, though it was masked by everyone else inserting their own curse.

Snape opened the doors and everyone nearly fell over from the odor. Eric poofed away; being extremely lucky to have that ability. Everyone else was left to try and breathe through their mouths, though that doesn't help with garlic. Poor Ginny collapsed first and Chase carried her out of the hall with Ron at his heels. Those still determined to hear the news were breathing through their cloaks. Snape glowered at the teenagers, who were using their plates to fan the air away, and then spoke to Albus.

"The potion is ready," he stated.

Albus nodded once, then fell to the floor unconscious. Minerva would have aided him, had she not been sneaking towards the door at that very moment. Harry gave up and bolted for the door with everyone else right behind him. They ran all the way up to the roof where they breathed in the oxygen.

"My God, I thought he was smelly before the garlic!" Sara shrieked, spraying her perfume all around.

Harry, who now smelt like jasmine and roses, looked out over the school grounds. He couldn't really explain how he felt. On the one hand he was happy they'd solved the problem so quickly… but at the same time he felt… well he couldn't explain it. As they settled down, everyone joined him, staring up at the canopy of stars. They were all thinking the same thing it turned out, as Ginny spoke.

"It's still hard to believe it was her," she stated lightly, as if mentioning the weather.

"Yeah!" Sara burst out, making it obvious that she'd been hoping to discus it. "I mean, she was just so sweet!"

"When?" Ron asked. "In between scampering off to do who know what by herself and apologizing for other people's faults?"

"So you're telling me you think she's evil?" Sara demanded.

"Yes," Hermione stated.

"You're just sour because she got better grades than you," Mike insisted.

"Hello, she was CHEATING!"

"Yeah, yeah, yeah," Mike rolled his eyes.

"… so… I wonder what happens now," said Chase. "I mean, what happens to her and all."

"She'll get what she deserves no doubt," Hermione stated as if that was that.

"…Maybe it wasn't her…" Harry pondered. "The book can change form, we know that from it changing into the secret journal of Salazar Slytherin. Maybe she found the book and just never knew… then she attacked Dumbledore because she was upset about her family."

"Harry, you have too much hope for her," Hermione cooed sympathetically. "But that's quite a stretch."

"Go bugger a llama, he could be right," growled Mike.

Hermione just stared at him for a few minutes before yelling out a resounding, "Eww!"

"So… now wha-"

"Stop-"

"-I'm warning you-"

"-Knock it off!-"

"-Enough!-"

"-Argh!"


	9. Speak up

Come on people, you're breaking my heart. If you read, please review.


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